A Golden Opportunity - The Other Guard
by Reika-Hell-Flower
Summary: I made it... but just barely. Luck got me to survive, but now I really need help. The robots will be even more dangerous now and I don't think I'd be able to survive on my own. This new guy that's gonna work with me better be ready for some crazy shit... That is, if I can make it out of the hospital... [Sequel to "The Night Shift"]
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I do not own "Five Nights at Freddy's" or its characters. Ha. I wish…**

 **[A/N:** **Beware of seemingly unimportant details from "The Night Shift" turning out to be significant.]**

* * *

"Here you go, sir."

"Thanks."

The store clerk handed the requested newspaper to the young brown-haired man in front of him with a subservient smile. The costumer made a small grin and turned around to leave once he seized the newspaper from the store clerk's hands.

The brown-haired man took a second to check himself out in the mirror, ( _"Yep. Still handsome,"_ he thought, still grinning) when he heard something that caught his attention.

A good-looking female news reporter was talking on TV. "The investigation on the death of former pizzeria owner Francis Anderson is still under way," she informed, while a small square in the top right corner showed the image of a destroyed vehicle in the freeway, followed by a photo of the deceased man.

He frowned. The hand that held his newspaper twitched as he moved back towards where the TV was.

The journalist on the TV went on. "According to witness reports, a car crashed into the vehicle Mr. Anderson was driving, making him lose control, which resulted on the death of both him and his fifteen year old son, Gregory Anderson. The person responsible for the accident has since vanished, as no one was able to identify the driver or license number. Francis Anderson is the son of Fazbear Entertainment owner, Jack Anderson, who has refused to give any statement to the media…"

"Humpf…" At the mention of Jack Anderson's name, the man turned his back on the television and walked out the door.

So Francis was dead? That was a shame. He had worked with him, and unlike his father, Francis was a good man. His son, Greg, was a good kid too, from what he could recall. Who could have done this to them…? He would have to contact his family to show his respects later.

Shaking his head at the notion of the world being no longer safe for a fifteen year old, he opened his newspaper and searched for job offers. He had to find a job soon if he didn't want _him_ to start bothering him again.

Once he found the page, his brows furrowed. Could this be a coincidence…?

" _HELP WANTED_

 _Freddy Fazbear's Pizza_

 _Family pizzeria looking for security guard to work the nightshift. 12 am to 6 am._

 _Monitor cameras, ensure safety of equipment and animatronic characters._

 _Not responsible for injury / dismemberment._

 _$120 a week._

 _To apply call: 1-888-FAZ-FAZBEAR"_

* * *

 **[A/N: Ohohohohoh BD I wonder who this guy is...?]**


	2. Chapter 1 - You Have Visitors

**Disclaimer: I do not own "Five Nights at Freddy's" or its characters.**

* * *

" _Someone please shoot me…"_

Mike rubbed his eyes. He was trying very hard to picture himself in a far-away place, with enough distance from the hospital room he was currently in. Any other place would be better as far as he was concerned – well, maybe not the _pizzeria_ …

Once again, he was enveloped by chubby arms, that almost squeezed him to death. "My poor baby – oh, I was so worried about you! I cannot believe something like this happened…!"

"Mom…" he coughed, trying to break free. "… You're making it worse…"

The woman side-hugging him immediately released her son, smiling thought her eyes were glittering due to the tears she was holding back. "I'm sorry, Mikey… Oh but I'm so glad you're okay…!"

"Define 'okay'…" Mike muttered, rubbing his neck. Now another part of his body was aching.

Mike Schmidt was very lucky to still be alive. Even though he was lying on a hospital bed, barely able to move and feeling like he had been run over by a steamroller, he was glad. He was sure he'd be able to get better quickly, even though the doctors had told him he would only be fully recovered in a week, give or take. The prospect of having to wait a week to go back to work bugged him though. He needed to go back as quick as possible – he had to figure out what was going on before whatever was messing things up at the pizzeria could do any more damage. Now that he thought about it, it was pretty odd that he was so eager to go back to work. Normally a person would gladly take a break from their job, but his job wasn't a normal one anyway.

He was worried. What could Shadow Bonnie be doing while he was gone? Would he mess around with the animatronics? No… Golden Freddy was still there… _both_ of them. They probably had it under control. At least the place was closed – no chance of them hurting anyone.

"Honey," his mother called, snapping him out of his worries so he would listen to her own. "We need to talk about your job. It's the second time you get hurt because of it – it's not safe!"

Mike sighed. "Mom, I'm _fine_. If it's not me, it will be someone else. I want to keep this job, honest," he added that last word as he looked at his father, who had, until that point, remained silent. "Lawren – um, Mr. Richards is looking for another guard to work the night shift with me, so now it will be two of us. It will be safer now."

Or so he hoped. He wasn't too sure about it, in reality. It had took him three days for him to even accept the fact that the robots would, in fact, try and kill him; he had no idea how this new guy would take it. Hell, he could even end up bailing as soon as he realized what was really at stake, and then Mike would be on his own again. Well, Golden Freddy would be there at least. He would actually prefer it if it was just him and Golden Freddy taking care of it – he didn't want to get anyone else involved in that mess. But it wasn't his call.

His mother shook her head impatiently. "But look at the state you're in! You can find a much safer job easily, Mikey, there is no need for you to stay on this one," she insisted.

"Didn't the janitor die?" his father inquired roughly. "Do you want to be the next one on the list? Or maybe you enjoy the _thrill_ of it?"

Mike glared at his father. Did he actually think he knew the risk he was taking better than he did? What a laugh – as if it had been him in that dirty office fighting for his life for a week. He wasn't doing it for the _thrills_ – how retarded would he have to be? – and he certainly wasn't suicidal; he had to do it. He couldn't explain why, but he felt like it was his responsibility to figure out what was going on and put a stop to it.

And he really didn't need to be reminded that Jim had died. He had been the one to drag him out as far as he could after all; he knew how bad things were. He still couldn't believe it though… he was dead. Jim had actually died trying to protect the pizzeria. Trying to keep Shadow Bonnie away… and now he was gone. Who would be able to keep him away now?

The guard cleared his throat. "Despite of what you may think, dad, I am not some irresponsible thrill-seeker who doesn't understand the seriousness of things," he said, bitterly. "I know _exactly_ how bad things are for me right now, because, in case you were too busy playing the 'disappointed daddy' role, _I'm the one who got hurt."_

His mother looked at her husband with a furrowed brow. He swallowed what were certainly some harsh words and crossed his arms. "Well then, if you do understand the risks you are taking, then would you care to share the reason why you still want to stay?"

Mike shrugged, attempting to look indifferent. "I _like_ this job," he replied, feeling like he was telling the biggest lie ever told. His father made a hissing sound of disbelief, which he ignored. "I am not going to throw away this job opportunity, dad. God knows if I'll ever find another job this easily. This only happened because I was by myself and people act stupid due to all of those rumors – now that I'll have a partner this won't happen again."

He looked at his mother, hoping she wouldn't keep pressuring the issue. She didn't. In fact, she seemed pleased about his commitment, though there was still a small hint of worry in her eyes. His father raised his eyebrows for a few seconds, and then nodded.

"Very well," he muttered. "You seem adamant about this decision. I will not question it. BUT if you get this seriously injured again due to that job I will not only drag you out of that pizzeria myself but I will sue them so hard it will take them three generations of managers to pay up."

His wife tapped his shoulder. "Calm down, honey... After all, a night guard's job _is_ to ward off thieves and vandals… They can get hurt sometimes, it's not like Mikey was about to die…"

The guard gulped. Well, that was not entirely true… They believed the story Lawrence told them, about how both him and Jim were threatened by a group of vandals and Jim ended up dying of a heart attack. The manager told them, inclusively, that Mike only got some internal damage from punching and kicking. That was not the truth, naturally. He had indeed sustained internal damage, but not because of someone beating him up – a spirit had managed to injure him. Shadow Bonnie, that _dick._ And he had almost died. _Twice._

He attempted to look cheerful. "Exactly! Now, don't you two have something else to do? You can already see I look fine, so…"

His mother waved her hand dismissively. "Please, honey, you're my son. I will give away all of my money and clothes if it means you are safe and healthy. No matter how many children I take care of, you will always be my baby…" she said lovingly, pinching his cheek.

 _Oh sweet mother of…_

"Mom, please…" he groaned, rolling his eyes.

"He is an adult now, Cara; will you stop with this 'mama's boy' nonsense?" his father croaked, huffing underneath his moustache.

" _Thank you,_ dad."

"And, as far as my job goes, they can do without me for the morning," the older man added. "Hugo is surely capable of handling my clients while I'm gone."

Mike looked back and forth between his parents. There was no use in arguing any further.

His mother, Cara, was a kindergarten attendant. She adored her job, and was always squealing over the children, spoiling them to no end. Sometimes she spoiled them more than their own parents… His father, Jonathan, was a banker. One of the oldest, in fact, and he was often asked to take care of the most "important" clients, as often cared to mention.

"Did Claire come in to visit already?" his mother wanted to know.

The guard nodded, rubbing his cheek. "She was the… well, second one to show up here…" He wrinkled his nose, remembering it had been _Lawrence_ the one to visit him first. "She'll come here again after work…"

That visitation by Claire had been quite interesting, to say the least. After Dr. McKinley entered the room, Claire adopted a rather cold demeanor towards the female doctor. Naturally, Dr. McKinley had no clue as to what was behind that attitude, but Mike knew it all too well. His girlfriend, even after he explained it all to her, was still suspicious of the doctor and showed a deep scowl every time she got "too close" to check on him.

Explaining everything that happened at the pizzeria turned out to be easier than he thought, though. She listened to his explanations without interrupting, but admitted that she was more worried about his safety than with finding out what was controlling the animatronics. Still, she believed him, and decided to support him with anything he committed himself to do. As long as it didn't involve spending too much time alone with Dr. McKinley. He had, however, decided to leave out the fact that there were spirits lurking around, giving her the impression that whatever was manipulating the animatronics was something living – a person, perhaps. She suggested that it could be Lawrence, but even though the man had his moments of asshole-ness, Mike didn't take him for a murder. He was pretty sure that what was controlling the robots was supernatural, but decided not to tell Claire about Golden Freddy or Shadow Bonnie. He was afraid that she would not believe him if he told her that he managed to survive an attack from a ghost because another ghost saved him. Even he still had trouble believing it.

"Oh I am so happy you and Claire are doing okay," said Cara with a happy sigh. "She is such a wonderful girl… I was ready to throw in the towel about you finding yourself a decent girl to marry with, I admit…"

Mike opened his mouth to protest, showing an expression of indignation. "Mom, I met her when I was _twenty-one_ , you were expecting me to be married by then?!"

"And why not?" she retorted casually. "I got married when I was eighteen."

"Pft, sure, great example…"

Cara ignored his comment. "I thought you had found your future wife early on, though… You and that little girl seemed to be such good friends…"

Mike stared at his mother. "Who are you talking about?"

She waved dismissively. "You know, that friend you had when you were around five? You two were always hanging out, playing together until you were eleven years old. She was such a cute girl, too. I don't quite remember her name, though…"

He frowned. He didn't remember playing with a girl when he was a kid. Then again, shocker, his bad memory strikes again.

"I don't really remember her…" he admitted out loud.

His father huffed. "No surprise there. I _do_ remember, however, that a certain _someone_ decided to cut up my suit to make a gift to said girl, the very girl he no longer remembers. Funny how the world works," he grunted in a very accusatory tone.

Alright, that was his cue to change the issue. Luckily, his mother seemed to agree and did it for him.

"Speaking of forgetting someone," she said, exaggerating a bit in the volume to make herself heard. "I'm going to give my sister a call and tell her what happened. I'm sure she'll want to come see how you're doing."

"I don't see why she would," he retorted. "When was the last time she even bothered to visit?"

Cara sighed. "I know, but it's at times like this that a family has to stick together.

" _She's saying it like I'm on my death bed or something…"_ he thought, annoyed.

"It's been a while since we last spoke anyway, and she did not put in flower on our parents' graves like she was supposed to. I'm getting worried," his mother admitted.

Her husband gave her a stern look. "The time to get worried has long passed. If she hadn't gotten involved with that scoundrel…"

Mike looked around, not really bothering to pay attention to his father's remarks on his aunt's bad judge of character when it came to men or to his mother's concerns. It had been years since he saw his aunt Cherry, and he had never even gotten to meet his cousins. He knew she had two kids, a girl and a boy, but didn't even know their names or how they looked like. She had run off with some guy when he was only six, and, since he had no memory of anything that took place before he was eleven, he had absolutely no memories of her.

At that moment, a nurse appeared at the door.

"Mr. and Mrs. Schmidt? We have to take your son for observation now, please," she informed.

Mike sighed in relief. _Finally._

His parents nodded almost at the same time and, as his father walked out without a word of goodbye, his mother bent over to kiss her son's cheek, leaving behind a distinct lipstick mark. He tried his best to rub it out while the nurse chuckled lightly.

"Mama's boy?" she asked jokingly.

He didn't bother to answer.

* * *

" _London bridge is falling down…"_

Mike's eyes twitched. What was that…?

" _Falling down, falling down…"_

He opened his eyelids slowly. The room was dark. One glance to his side, and he saw the time: three in the morning. Why did he wake up so early? After the tests he had to conduct during the afternoon, he sure needed some sleep…

" _My…"_

Was that someone singing…?

"… _fair…"_

And what the hell was that sound? Sounded like someone mopping the floor…

"… _lady…"_

He looked in front, to the edge of his bed. His eyes widened and he almost screamed – fortunately, he managed to control himself before he did. Instead, he ended up gasping and making an odd sound with his throat, as if he had gagged on something.

"J-Jim?!"

The janitor was standing at the edge of his bed, holding a mop and smiling at him. "Hello, Mike Schmidt. I thought I'd come in for a visit."

Mike looked around him, his heart calming down from the scare, trying to spot any indication that he was dreaming. Things, however, looked relatively normal. "What the hell are you…?! Wait… You're dead! How are you…?"

"Hush now, my dear boy. No need to scream," Jim said, chuckling. "You are right. I am dead. What you are seeing is nothing more than an apparition. You must be used to it by now."

"No," Mike spat. "I am not used to – what are you doing here?"

"Like I said, visiting," answered the janitor. "You did your best to try and save me that night, and I thank you for it. I'm glad to see you are recovering well."

Finally calm, Mike looked at Jim, feeling sadness overcome the shock. "I'm sorry… I… I couldn't do anything…"

Jim lifted his hand to silence him, still smiling. "Worry not, Mike Schmidt. I am at peace. Finally free. What matters is that you are safe."

"Jim, now that you're gone, who's going to keep Shadow Bonnie away?" Mike asked.

Jim took a while to answer. "Do not worry. Mr. Richards already took care of that. Under my instructions, he has contacted my daughter, and…"

"Your daughter?" Mike interrupted. "So, she… She's a medium, like you right?"

The janitor nodded. "Indeed she is. As I was saying, Mr. Richards has contacted my daughter, and she will be replacing me as the janitor. I am sure she will prove to be far more efficient at the task of warding off unwelcome visitors than me. Advantages of being young still, I suppose."

"Jim…" Mike called, trying to sit up, though a sharp pain in his side warned him that was not a good idea. "Do you know who, or _what_ Shadow Bonnie is? And the two Golden Freddies?"

Jim's smile got wider, and more eerie. "What do you feel when you see our friend, Golden Freddy?"

Mike blinked. "I… well, I feel like he's not a threat… Like he's there to help… I feel safe," he replied, feeling a bit awkward at admitting it.

"I see… And Shadow Bonnie?"

His feeling of awkwardness quickly morphed into anger. "I hate it. Even before I saw it live, I… I saw it in a dream and I just…" He gulped. "I don't know why, but I hate it and fear it at the same time, as if…"

"… as if you've seen it before?" Jim said, completing Mike's sentence.

Mike looked at him, not sure what he meant.

"Remember, Mike Schmidt," Jim muttered, leaning forward. **"REMEMBER"**

"Time to wake up!"

"Son of a -"

Mike woke up with a jolt, looking around restlessly and cursing loudly. Once his eyes adjusted to the light that was coming out of the window, he realized everything he had just seen and heard was part of a dream. _Not again…_

" _This job is making me have some weird-ass dreams…"_ he thought, rubbing his eyes.

The nurse next to him eyed him with suspicion. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, yeah… just… dreaming…" he replied, waving off her concerns.

He looked at his right hand. There was a deep scar there, diagonal. He had it since he could remember, but had no idea where he got it. All he knew was that his parents had been looking for him for almost an entire day when they found him in the woods, with some blood on his shirt and a deep cut in his hand. He remembered that event vaguely, but had no idea what had happened before that. Come to think of it, he didn't remember anything from before he was found in the woods…

" **REMEMBER"**

Mike looked at the window. There was a bird singing a beautiful sad song. How could a bird sing like that?

He looked back at his scar. How did he get it? Up until now, he hadn't bothered much with it. It was just a scar. But he was starting to think that every little detail in his life was worth looking into at this point. Why did he feel like it was his responsibility to sort out the mysteries of the pizzeria? Why did he feel such hate and fear when he saw Shadow Bonnie, if he had never seen it before? What did he have to remember…?


	3. Chapter 2 - Golden Bird

**Disclaimer: I do not own "Five Nights at Freddy's" or its characters.**

* * *

"Do you want to get fit in no time at all?"

"No."

 _Click._

"Fear not, fair maiden! I shall protect you with my -"

"No."

 _Click._

"Look, Puddy! I think I see an airplane!"

"… No."

 _Click._

"… and that's why combining alcohol with a nudist beach is a _terrible_ idea. On other news…"

Mike stared at the TV screen and sighed. Oh well. Might as well check what the world is up to while he's stuck at the hospital.

He looked at the edge of his bed and tried to move his feet. His right foot complied with his will, but his left one was being a bit more stubborn. He then looked up, to the spot where the janitor had been in his dream. For the second time in the same month, he had a strange dream that only got him more confused than he already was before. He was pretty sure those dreams had were not something random, product of his imagination running wild in his sleep. They were trying to tell him something. They could be more specific about it though.

Mike still didn't know what he was supposed to remember. Up until that point, he had never thought much about his lack of memories, attributing it to him knocking his head against something added to his memory already being bad. As for the condition he had been found in, considering the deep cut he had in his hand, he assumed he got cut while messing around in the woods and tried to wipe the blood off with his shirt. That had been the assumption his parents had made as well, considering he was acting completely normal once he was found. But now, he was starting to question everything.

Could he really have forgotten something important? Something somehow related to Shadow Bonnie? Maybe he _did_ see it before…

"The investigation on the death of former pizzeria owner Francis Anderson is still under way," informed a voice from the TV.

Mike's attention was immediately shifted towards the television. It was now showing the image of a car completely destroyed in the freeway, followed by a photo of the man that had died. He had a round, kind face.

"According to witness reports, a car crashed into the vehicle Mr. Anderson was driving, making him lose control, which resulted on the death of both him and his fifteen year old son, Gregory Anderson," added the female journalist.

"Wait a minute…" he muttered. A guy who died along with his fifteen year old son? Where had he heard that before…?

The hospital! On his third night, when he got injured in his shoulder, he heard the doctors mention some guy that was involved on a car accident – it was that Francis guy, for sure. But why was his death relevant enough to put on the news? Maybe he was someone important…

"The person responsible for the accident has since vanished, as no one was able to identify the driver or license number. Francis Anderson is the son of Fazbear Entertainment owner, Jack Anderson…"

"WHAT?!"

Mike tried to sit up on an impulse, which only made his stomach ache. He laid back down, holding his stomach and coughing. "Ugh…" he groaned, rubbing his belly as he kept staring at the TV.

The image of a stern-looking chubby man with a similarly stern moustache appeared, above the subtitle "Jack Anderson, Owner of Fazbear Entertainment". The man glared at the TV, telling the journalists quite roughly to "sod off" and then closed the door on their faces. The lead female journalist made no comment to the man's actions and simply stated that they would inform the public once there was any development in the investigation.

He looked at the ceiling, as the commercials started. So that was the owner of Fazbear Entertainment… The one who was actually responsible for the terms of sigil presented in his contract… And now both his son and grandson were dead. Could it be a coincidence…?

 _Chirp_

Mike looked at the open window next to his bed. There was a small bird hoping on the window, staring at him. It was of a bright golden color, and its feathers shimmered in the sunlight.

 _Chirp chirp_

"Hey buddy," the guard greeted, chuckling. He moved his hand towards the bird, expecting it to fly away.

The bird, however, remained completely still, looking at his approaching hand. Once his hand was within millimeters of where it was, it hoped onto his hand and pecked his finger in a way that seemed pretty affectionate.

He made a look of surprise. That bird was obviously used to being around humans. It was probably raised in captivity, but managed to escape somehow, probably – he doubted anyone would let a bird of such a unique color get away off their own accord.

 _Chirp_

"Well, aren't you a friendly one?" he said, amused, as he tapped the bird's head lightly.

The animal blinked lazily, chirping. It then started singing, hoping back and forth in his hand. The song was familiar… it was the same sad song he had heard that morning, so that was probably the same bird that was singing it. He looked at the bird for a while, listening to it sing. It felt like he could listen to it sing all day.

Then someone knocked on the door. Mike jumped slightly, looking at the door. He was so immersed in the singing he almost forgot where he was. He felt the bird hop out of his hand and fly back towards the window.

"Mike?"

A blonde girl walked in the room, smiling. "How is the most devoted night guard in the world doing?"

He smiled back at the sight of Claire. "Pretty good." His gaze lingered on the open window for a few seconds before turning back to his girlfriend.

"I thought I heard a song coming from here," Claire said, sitting on the vacant chair next to his bed. "Was it on TV?"

"It was actually a bird. That bird," he pointed out, looking at the tiny golden bird that was still looking at them from the window.

Claire's face brightened. "Oh it's so cute!" she squealed, getting up and walking towards the window. The bird blinked lazily as Claire moved her hand slowly towards it, obviously afraid to scare it off.

"I don't think this bird is afraid of humans, Claire. It hoped on my hand as soon as I got close," Mike informed.

In fact, the bird did just the same once Claire's hand got close enough. It chirped a couple of times, looking at Claire with what seemed to be a quizzical look.

Claire made a small sound of glee. "This bird is adorable! Look at it – it's so tiny and friendly," she said, sitting on the chair once again while tapping the bird's head.

"That's what I said," Mike chuckled, amused at seeing Claire so overjoyed.

 _Chirp chirp_

The bird pecked on Claire's finger the same affectionate way it had on Mike's, which only made her squeal some more. "Oh I wish we could keep it! Maybe the inn-lord won't mind a bird…"

"Hey that's fine by me," said Mike. "We can go ahead and call it Goldilocks."

Claire giggled. "Just Goldie would be fine. It sounds cuter. What do you think?" she asked, directing herself more to the bird than to Mike. "Do you like how Goldie sounds?"

 _Chirp chirp_

"So…" Mike started, beginning to feel ignored. "How are things going in the outside world? Ray hasn't come by to visit yet…"

Claire's attitude changed immediately. She rolled her eyes, now seemingly annoyed. "He must be busy with his new _gig_ ," she replied, making air quotation marks in the word "gig".

Mike frowned. That didn't sound good. He knew from experience that whenever Ray got involved in something, it was usually trouble. "What 'gig' are we talking about, exactly?"

"Something about mechanics…" Claire explained. "I'm not sure… He just mentioned that he met some guy who's a technician and he's been learning how to mess around with electronics."

Ah. Now he could see what the danger was. Ray had gotten involved with the wrong crowd many times in the past – inclusively, he had spent some time in juvi from breaking-and-entering and attempt of theft. If he was learning how to mess around with electronics, more persuasive people could lead him astray once again to use his newfound skills for crimes.

Mike sighed. "Do you know who this 'some guy' is? Because if he's involved in something bad…"

"Well, he didn't seem like a criminal, if that's what you're wondering," Claire said. "But then again, it's not like every criminal is going to be walking around wearing a flag that says 'Thug for life'." She then sniffed, seeming extremely displeased at something. "I didn't like him though."

"Why?"

She shrugged. "He just seemed too conceited. First thing he did when Ray introduced us was call me 'babe' and ask me if I was free later."

Mike felt an urge to find that guy and punch him. "Yeah, I don't like how he sounds either. And what did you say?" he asked, trying to make the question sound casual.

Claire grinned. "I said I was not free for him _ever_ , and at least Ray had the decency to warn him I was already seeing someone." She patted the bird's head again with loving look.

"What's the guy's name?" Mike wanted to know.

Claire frowned. "Uh. I don't remember," she said, sounding surprised with herself. "Fred…? Or was it Phil…? I guess I wasn't really paying attention. But I don't think you have to worry about him, though. He seems to be a real technician, who learned at an _actual_ school, so if Ray is learning from there, at least he's getting a skill from a legal source."

"Which doesn't mean he'll use said skill for legal purposes," Mike retorted, feeling worried. With him at the hospital, there was very little he could do to help Ray out in case he got involved in trouble.

"You should just worry about getting better," Claire said. "It's about time Ray starts to take responsibility for his own actions. He can't expect you to bail him out forever. I mean, you can barely take care of yourself…" she added.

Mike looked at her. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"What you heard. I'm still not happy about you going back to work at the pizzeria once you're recovered."

Mike sighed. He thought she had agreed to support him on his decision…?

"Claire, I already told you…" he started, though Claire interrupted him.

"You told me, I listened, but it doesn't mean I agree with it. Are you really expecting me to be happy about you working for someone who covers up the death of their own employees?" she hissed, lowering her voice so no one outside would hear her.

"I'm not happy with it either, but I have to figure out what is going on there," he explained, for what felt like the thousandth time. "There's someone forcing the robots to attack people and I have to find out who and why."

Claire looked extremely worried and stressed at the thought of him risking his life for what seemed to be pure curiosity and stubbornness. "I just don't understand why does it have to be _you_. Why do you feel like you're somehow responsible for fixing things? If anything, your boss, Lawrence, should be doing something about it."

Mike scratched the back of his neck. He wasn't sure why he felt like he was somewhat responsible, but he did. It probably had to do with whatever he had to remember. And regarding Lawrence, he had the feeling the man _was_ doing something about it, but there was very little he could actually do. The man obviously relied on Jim to ward off Shadow Bonnie in the past, considering he most likely did not possess medium powers of his own; as for the robots, Mike supposed the owner of the company did not give him a lot of freedom when it came to handling them or shutting them down.

"I don't think he can. The owner of the company wants the pizzeria to stay open for profit, and Lawrence is just doing his best… I don't know why he wants to keep the place open too, but he probably has a good reason…" Mike explained.

Claire frowned. "Since when are you on your boss' side?"

"The man gave his blood to save my life," he replied, gulping at the thought of now having something in common with him. "The least I can do is give him a chance to show he's not just some douchebag who sits back and watches his staff die for kicks."

"I really think we should tell the police about it…" Claire sighed. "Just think of the all the families out there who can't have closure about the family members they lost…!"

Mike rubbed his eyes. "I know that, Claire, I thought the same, but just ask yourself – if someone told you that the person from your family went missing was killed by a group of murderous robots, would you believe it?"

She blinked and opened her mouth to say something, but seemed to give up. Instead, she nodded after a while. "You're right… no one would…"

"Plus, they already got rid of all the evidence by now. No evidence, no case. It would just be some random guy trying to make a buck," he reasoned. "My best shot is to dig into this and figure out who's responsible. Then, I can tell the police and things will be solved."

Claire managed to make a small smile. "I've never seen you so committed to something before. You really want to save that place."

He chuckled. "I guess I'm just stubborn like that. Leave it to Mike Schmidt to want to save the animatronics that almost got him killed. I'm one dumb fucker, that's for sure…"

Claire snorted, but there was someone in the room that wasn't amused.

 _Chirp!_

The little bird hoped out of Claire's hand, onto Mike's. It looked at him, tilting its head. Then, without warning, its eyes narrowed slightly in an accusatory look and it pecked Mike's finger roughly.

"Ow! Hey, what's with you all of a sudden?" Mike rubbed his finger as the bird flew out the window.

Claire laughed loudly. "You said a bad word. I think it was scolding you."

Mike looked at her surprised. Scolding him…?

He glanced at the open window, from which he could hear the same sad song the bird kept singing. He knew someone who scolded him every time he said a bad word. But that bird… it couldn't be…


	4. Chapter 3 - Static

**Disclaimer: I do not own "Five Nights at Freddy's" or its characters.**

* * *

Mike sighed in frustration. For hours he had tried, and tried, but for the life of him, he could not figure it out.

Ever since he had been left alone in his room, all lights turned off with the intention of making him fall asleep, his mind was busy trying to figure out an answer to all of the questions he had, that, as usual, revolved around that _damned pizzeria._ He had never put so much effort into trying to come up with the answer for something before, especially not at school.

First, there was the main issue – what was controlling the animatronics. It had to be something supernatural, or at least that's what he assumed. He couldn't see how a person would be controlling them, unless they were hacking into their system or something. But if someone was hacking the robots, Lawrence would have probably figured that out already by asking the mechanics to check it out… so that was out of the question.

Second – why were the robots being forced to go after the guards? Assuming it was something supernatural, it had to be something evil to make the robots kill people… or with some serious revenge issues…

Third – that first dream he had before he got stuck at the hospital… Assuming it had been Golden Freddy to make him have that dream – for whatever reason – he was obviously trying to tell him something. Maybe those rumors of kids being killed were somewhat true… Maybe someone did die there… and Shadow Bonnie was responsible… That wouldn't surprise him. But then what did the Puppet have to do with it? And why did it say "We have a place for you"?

And finally, the fourth issue – what on earth did he have to remember? He had never put too much thought into what had happened that day when he had been found in the woods, but now he was thinking that maybe he was involved in something… something bad. Something _so bad_ that he ended up forgetting it…

"Augh!" he growled, holding his head. "Why am I even bothering with this now? I should be resting! I'll just worry about this in the morning…"

He turned to the side, shutting his eyes closed firmly, his mind fully committed to shut down and have him fall asleep.

At least for a few seconds.

His eyes snapped open as he remembered something else that had just happened that day. That bird. What was that golden bird, anyway? Could it _actually_ be Golden Freddy? That didn't make sense… Unless the bear was, as he had suspected, some kind of spirit that was now controlling the bird in order to check on him at the hospital… Even at a hospital he could not get away from ghosts… _Twenty six years_ he had spent in bliss, not believing in ghosts or the "spirit world", and now he couldn't get away from it…

" _Let it go, Mike,"_ he told himself. _"Worry about it in the morning… Go to sleep… Go to sleep…"_

He closed his eyes again, sighing and trying to relax. But once again, it only lasted a few seconds.

A light flared in his eyes, making him twitch. "What the…" He blinked and looked at the wall at the edge of his bed.

The TV was turned on, and a loud noise of static could be heard coming from it. Mike rolled his eyes. Seriously, not even the damn TV wants him to go to sleep…? He picked up the remote that sat on his bedside table and pressed the button to turn the TV off. The screen went black, but returned to the image of white and black dots, the annoying sound of static returning, even louder.

"You have got to be kidding me…" the guard groaned, turning the TV off again. It only took a second for the screen to light up again, stubbornly.

Finally he gave up. Fine. He'd just have to call a nurse to get that fixed then. He was just about to reach for the distress button when he heard something coming from the TV.

" _ **S"**_

Mike frowned, and looked at the screen of the TV again. It was now showing a young child crying outside a building. He had bowl-cut hair and a worn-out hoodie. Mike adjusted himself on the bed. Well, if he couldn't go to sleep, he might as well watch that movie, whatever it was about. The kid kept crying for a while, until someone tapped his shoulder. The image went back to static abruptly, without showing the person's face.

"Ah come on…" Mike whined. Now that something was going to happen…

" _ **A"**_

The channel had changed. Now it showed a dark room, with several eyeless masks and empty suits.

"Wait a minute…"

Mike knew that room. It looked a lot like the backroom from the pizzeria! What the hell was going on?

The image zoomed in on the corner of the room, where two suits stood out due to their color. Golden. A golden bear and a golden bunny, with similar black bowties and buttons.

"Golden Freddy?" Mike muttered, not believing what he was seeing. So the bear had been an animatronic at some point! But what was that golden bunny then…?

The eyes of the animatronics lit up, and once again, the image cut to static.

Alright, that was not normal. This wasn't a case of the TV having bad reception. It was happening again. He was being shown clues as to what was going on, but, once again, he did not understand what they meant.

" _ **V"**_

Now the image was that of several children at a birthday party. There was a round table with a cake that had the number "10" serving as a candle. Four kids surrounded the one that he assumed to be the one whose birthday was being celebrated. Once a boy with red hair to his shoulders moved out of the camera view, Mike could see the child clearly. His heart jumped with the shock. He had seen that kid before!

It was a little girl with long black hair and eyes of an amber-ish color. He had seen her in that very first dream he had involving the pizzeria… He had even heard her name, what was it… Rita? No… Nikita…

"Rika!" he suddenly called, remembering the name.

As if the girl heard him, she looked straight at him. For a second, he thought that stare reminded him of someone, but the static replaced the image once again.

Now he was definitely convinced something had happened to that girl at the pizzeria. It couldn't be a coincidence that he was seeing her again.

" _ **E"**_

Mike quickly looked around for a notebook in the drawer. Luckily, he found one along with a pen, and started writing the letters that the robotic voice coming from the TV was spelling out. So far, he had "Save".

The channel changed once again, now showing a prison cell. Inside the prison cell, was a young man, probably around his age. He had blonde hair that was growing wildly and unkempt. The man was holding a photo of someone, but Mike couldn't tell who. A loud sob alerted him to the fact that the man was crying.

"I'm so sorry…" he was saying. "I'm so sorry…"

Static again.

Mike frowned. Who was that guy? What did he have to do with the pizzeria? Great… now he had more questions instead of answers…

" _ **T"**_

The image the TV showed now was so dark Mike almost thought it was turned off.

A faint light made it possible to tell that there was someone, a girl apparently, walking down a road that only had trees on one side. The girl seemed to be young, around her fifteens, and had a backpack. Mike couldn't see her features very clearly, but she was wearing a casual dress and seemed to have hair to her shoulders. Suddenly, the girl stopped dead in her tracks. She looked over her shoulder, at the screen. Now Mike could see she had very bright eyes, sky blue from the looks of it, and looked scared.

"Who's there?" she asked. Her voice sounded almost whispered, like a little girl trying to keep her voice down, but it sounded like that was just how she normally talked.

The static interrupted the scene once again, so Mike never found out what exactly got the girl so scared. And once again, he had no idea who she was or how she related to the many mysteries revolving around his work place…

" _ **H"**_

He scribbled the "h" quickly while staring at the screen. It showed a graveyard. A tall man had his back turned to the screen, and he stood in front of a grave. There were flowers there, and Mike assumed the man had just brought them. There was a light breeze going through the graveyard. Then, a bird landed on the grave.

Mike's eyes widened slightly as he recognized that golden color. That bird again!

The bird chirped sadly, and the man turned his head to look at it. In profile, Mike could see what he looked like, and once again felt a pang of shock.

"Lawrence?!"

It was definitely the manager, though he didn't have a beard and his stare seemed more sad than intimidating. Mike tried moving closer to the TV to try and see the name engraved in the tombstone, but couldn't. The static reappeared before he managed to read everything. He did, however, get the name "Keira Richards", though without knowing how she related to Lawrence it didn't help him much. It could be a sister, mother, wife, who knows?

And he had seen the bird as well! What did the bird have to do with the manager? God more questions…

" _ **E"**_

The image now showed a young security guard, with sandy hair and grey eyes. He bent over to comfort a little boy that had scrapped his knee. From the surrounding area, Mike realized it was very similar to the pizzeria, but not exactly the same… The decoration was fancier, and it looked much brighter.

Once the little boy ran off, the guard frowned and looked back at an area where kids were making a lot of noise. They were surrounding something and apparently discussing how they were going to "put it back together", whatever they meant. The guard walked up to them, his right profile facing the screen, making it impossible for Mike to read his name tag. The kids looked up at the guard and smiled, but his attention was focused elsewhere.

Now Mike could see the kids were surrounding a robot. It must have been a white fox at some point, but at the moment it was just a mangle of parts. Its arm was connected to the back of its neck, and there was a hand coming out of its left eye socket, replacing the eye. Slightly disturbed by the toy the kids were creating, Mike looked at the guard instead. He too seemed to be slightly disturbed by it.

The eye that the kids didn't take out suddenly turned on the guard's direction, with a piercing stare that didn't forebode anything good.

The image, however, cut to static before it could confirm Mike's suspicion that something really bad was about to happen to that guard.

" _ **M"**_

Mike looked at the paper he had been writing on. "Save them", it's what the voice was saying. Save who? All the people the TV had been showing? Yeah, that wouldn't take forever… He didn't even know their identities, save for Lawrence.

Looking at the TV for what he hoped would be the last time that night, he saw a place that was definitely familiar with – the office he stayed at during his shift. The person who sat on the chair was not Mike, thought. It was Phil.

He was at the phone, but Mike couldn't hear what he was saying clearly. The image was slowly zooming in from the side, and once it had a close up of him up to his chest, a small hand touched his shoulder. It was almost invisible.

" **It's me…"** said a tiny young girl's voice.

This time, static didn't interrupt the image. Instead, the TV turned off on its own.

Mike kept staring at the TV, his mouth slightly agape. It wasn't the first time he had heard that phrase, but he had never heard it coming from a little girl. He had always heard it with Phil's voice, though robotic. Now he was starting to suspect whoever that little girl that just talked was, she was the one taking on Golden Freddy's appearance and helping him. It would explain why the bear kept scolding him whenever he said a bad word – it was just a little girl. But the reason why she chose to use Phil's voice eluded him… Maybe she thought it wouldn't scare Mike as much if it was the voice of someone he knew? Following that logic, than Phil probably knew the girl, considering she contacted him with her voice. Could that girl be someone who died at the pizzeria? Maybe that girl named Rika? She had talked in his dream, but he couldn't recall how she sounded like…

He rubbed his eyes. It was late. He would have plenty of time to think about all of that in the morning. For the third time, he rested his head in his pillow to try and sleep. Third time's the charm…?


	5. Chapter 4 - Funeral

**Disclaimer: I do not own "Five Nights at Freddy's" or its characters.**

* * *

"Sir, you really shouldn't leave today… You just managed to get out of bed, it's too soon…!"

"First of all, stop calling me sir. Second of all, I am going to that funeral and you're not gonna stop me. Feel free to try though – I'm warning you, I have a crutch and I know how to use it."

It had been years since Mike had last thrown a tantrum, but he was clearly still capable of doing so efficiently. The nurse sighed in exasperation, looking over at the patient's girlfriend for support, but the blonde girl simply shrugged. Claire knew very well he was not going to be deterred from his objectives at this point. In fact, she was already holding his jacket in her arms, ready to accompany him outside.

"Don't yell at the nurse, Mike," Claire sighed. "She's just looking after your health."

"Don't care," he grunted. "Are you ready?"

Claire opened her arms to show her attire, consisting of a dress, jacket and flat shoes, all in black. "I am. Are you going to need the wheelchair?"

Mike shook his head abruptly. "No, I'm good with these crutches." He didn't like the idea of being carried around in a wheelchair by Claire. It made him feel like an invalid.

After having a good night sleep – no more haunted TVs turning on their own! – he woke up to see he had an unexpected visitor. The day guard, Stewart, had gone there to check up on him, and tease indefinitely about him now sharing their boss' blood. He had also told him something that had lead to Mike's current state of determined stubbornness – Jim's funeral would be taking place that afternoon, and Mike had no intentions of missing it. It was the least he could do for the old janitor, after all he did to help him and the pizzeria.

Claire, naturally, offered to accompany Mike to watch over him, in case he felt any pain and had to return to the hospital bed. She didn't know the janitor, of course, but from what Mike had told her, she understood more-or-less that he had helped the guard and paid the ultimate price for it, reason why she wanted to pay her respects.

Just as the nurse opened her mouth to give another argument as to why Mike couldn't leave, someone opened the door without knocking. A tall, black-haired man, who Mike, unfortunately, recognized.

"Probee, your ride has arrived," Lawrence announced as he entered the room. "And he does not like being kept waiting, so I suggest you move your ass."

Mike groaned inwardly. _"Damn that Stewart…_ _why did he tell Lawrence I needed a ride?!"_ he thought angrily, having a clear picture of the day guard faking an expression of innocent obliviousness as he told him what he had done. And it wasn't even true – even if he couldn't drive himself, Claire had a license; there was no need for his boss to take him to Jim's funeral. But, no point on mourning about it now. Surprisingly enough, Lawrence had agreed to drive Mike and Claire to the funeral, and Mike was not about to tell him he wasn't going with him anymore. Plus, it could, possibly, give him a good chance to ask him a couple of questions.

The supernatural event that had transpired the previous night had given Mike more questions than answers, as usual. Now he wondered who that blonde guy in the prison cell was, and what the connection between the blue-eyed girl that was being stalked by something and the pizzeria was. That, and who was this "Keira Richards" – the person whose tombstone Lawrence was visiting on the image that showed on TV. Asking him about the golden bird was probably too much of a stretch, but then again, he couldn't imagine a conversation in which asking Lawrence such a personal question as "did a woman in your family named Keira die?" didn't lead to the man snapping at him. He would have to think very carefully about how he would approach this issue…

Once he and Claire got to Lawrence's car- a black Mercedes – Mike looked at the passenger's seat. There was someone sitting there. Someone small.

"Back seat, probee," Lawrence directed, as he headed towards the driver's seat. "And put on your seatbelt."

Mike took a second to frown at Lawrence ( _"I know I have to put on my seatbelt! What does he think I am, a kid?"_ ) before opening the door to the backseat. As soon as he got in the car and sat back, followed by Claire sitting next to him, he took a glance at the person on the passenger's seat. It was a little girl, about eight or nine years old, with black hair to her shoulders, mostly loose though part of it was tied in a high side-ponytail.

"Probee, probee's girlfriend." He nodded at Claire, who smiled at the little girl, though Mike frowned at what the manager called her. "This is my daughter Samantha," Lawrence introduced. "Honey, this is Michael Schmidt and…"

"Claire," the blonde girl completed, waving at Lawrence's daughter, who grinned.

"Hello!" Samantha greeted. "Are you daddy's friend?"

The guard blinked, staring at the little girl in surprise. That… was Lawrence's daughter. His boss was a _father._ He didn't picture him as being the fatherly type at all. As to her question, the truthful answer would be a "Hell no!", but considering that Lawrence was listening, he should probably refrain from brutal honesty.

"Uh…"

"No," Lawrence said from the front seat. "He's the night guard of my pizzeria."

"Oh, so he's the one that keeps the bad people away?" the little girl inquired.

"That's supposed to be his job, yes," her father confirmed.

Feeling like his tone of voice was slightly accusatory, Mike frowned. Was he implying he wasn't doing a good job? He had survived for five days, and was brave – or stupid – enough to want to keep returning to the pizzeria to work the night shift, he deserved some kind of appreciation. And a raise.

"But, daddy, I thought you were looking for another guard…" the girl insisted.

Lawrence sighed. "I am, honey, but it's to help Schmidt, not to replace him. The pizzeria needs two guards now."

"Have you found anyone yet?" Mike wanted to know, curious.

"No." Lawrence seemed aggravated. It didn't sound like his search for a second night guard was going well. "Not a single person has applied yet. Can't say I blame them…"

Claire gave Mike an apprehensive look. He knew what she was thinking, and he was thinking the same. If no one applied for the job, it would just be Mike on his own. Well, he knew Golden Freddy would be there, but Claire didn't, so she wouldn't feel reassured. He allowed himself a little moment of amusement as he imagined how it would be like if he introduced Golden Freddy to Claire as his partner and invited him over to dinner. Then again, it would proabably be an inconsiderate thing to do since the ghostly bear can't eat...

* * *

The guard was positively surprised. They had managed to get to the church in time, but struggled to find a pace to sit. He wasn't expecting there to be so many people at Jim's funeral.

There were couples with young children, a couple of men that seemed to be around Jim's age, and even a group of boys and girls that seemed to be in their late teens, all in a seemingly depressed state. Two of the girls had tears streaming down their faces, holding each other's hands. Mike couldn't fathom why those teenagers would be at Jim's funeral – it seemed weird that they would be friends.

"Who are all these people?" he whispered to no one in particular, as he sat between Claire and Samantha. The little girl had followed him over to the row he had spotted, and sat next to him with a big grin.

"People that Jim helped," Lawrence muttered in reply.

Mike looked at him. Did he mean what he thought he meant? Did Jim help all of those people with their problems that related to the supernatural? That would actually explain why those teenagers were at an old man's funeral…

When the priest called for the immediate family, three people stood up. A girl with black hair to her chest, probably around her eighteens, and a boy and a girl, also with black hair, twins from the looks of it, who seemed to be young teens.

"Are they Jim's grandchildren?" Mike asked Lawrence.

Lawrence frowned, looking at the guard with an impressed stare. "This is a funeral, Schmidt, save the talking for when it's over," he hissed.

Mike crossed his arms and turned to face the podium. Fine, he'd shut up. Figures the only time when his questions would be answered was when he didn't even meant to make the questions in the first place.

The older girl stood at the podium, looking at the people present at the church with an absent-minded look. The guard managed to suppress a surprised gasp. She had eyes as blue as the sky, though they felt ice cold. She looked exactly like the girl he saw being stalked that night on the TV, but with longer hair and only slightly older, from the looks of it.

"Who is that?" he questioned, his whisper sounding a little louder than expected, as several people turned their heads to glare at him.

Lawrence glared at him as well, from the corner of his eye. "Hush, Schmidt. That is Jim's daughter, Mira, now will you shut your trap?"

Claire tapped Mike's elbow, to turn his attention back to the podium. He did so, focusing all of his attention on Mira. Judging from the teenage boys' interested stares and mutters, Mike was not the only one who thought that girl was beautiful. He also noticed, however, that, even though she seemed young and delicate physically, she had this aura of power and assertiveness around her… and cold…

"My name is Mira Taylor," she said, in the same whispered voice he had heard from the TV. That really was just how she normally talked. It wasn't hard to make out what she was saying, however, as she seemed to have the ability to keep a large group of people quiet with little effort.

"Jim Taylor, my father, had a fulfilled life," she went on. "There is no reason to mourn, or cry for his departure. He is at peace. Tears and sobs are not necessary, for my father's only wish was for everyone around him to keep smiling and have faith in life."

Mike took a quick glance at the girls who had been sobbing. They nodded and wiped their tears away, trying to smile bravely.

"My children and I are the last members of my father's legacy. But a part of him will also carry on, in you, the people he aided throughout the years. His life in the physical world may be over, but as long as we keep him in our hearts and memories, my father's soul will never die," she declared.

" _Well, that was some speech,"_ Mike thought, wondering if he should start clapping. Since no one else started for him, he kept still. After a few seconds, his mind registered that Mira had referred to the young twins as her "children", which made him frown. How could they be her children? She didn't look any older than eighteen, and the twins were also in their teens. It was mathematically impossible.

After her, more people did their speeches. From them, he learned the stories behind most of the people that were attending the funeral. A young couple had apparently rented a house that was haunted by a violent spirit some years ago, and Jim had gotten rid of the spirit. There was also a group of elders who knew him from school, and a family of four that was related to his wife, who had died of cancer about five years ago. The group of teens also gave a speech, that despite being small was not deprived of emotion – apparently Jim helped them with a spirit that killed three of their friends after they summoned it by accident. They were still recovering from the ordeal, and one of their friends was still in a vegetative state.

Lawrence gave a small speech, thanking Jim for his services and dedication to the pizzeria, and making some mention to Jim "helping him with personal issues" that Mike felt was too vague. Could have something to do with Keira…

Once the priest moved outside and the coffin was carried out, Mike followed the herd of sobbing people, keeping Mira and her "children" under his watchful eye. The twins seemed very sad, holding each other's hand, but Mira only watched the coffin with a blank expression. If there had been any emotion in Mira's heart ever, there didn't seem to be any of it left.

After the ceremony was officially over, Mike immediately walked up to the black-haired girl, with Claire closely behind.

"Hey, Mira," the guard called.

Mira looked at him, and he felt like he was being observed via X-ray. Her stare was piercing. "Yes?"

"I'm, uh, very sorry for your loss," he said, though she looked like she could care less about whether he felt sorry or not. "My name's -"

"Mike Schmidt," she said, completing his introduction. "You are a night guard at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, and that is your girlfriend Claire… Shepherd."

Claire shared a confused look with Mike. How did she know?

"Yeah… How did you…?"

"You tried to help my father, even though there was no way for him to survive. Thank you. And… your soul…" Mira tilted her head slightly, looking down at him. "… is golden."

Mike blinked, not sure what to say to that statement. He dared a glance at Claire, who was assuming an expression not very different from the one she always carried whenever Dr. McKinley got "too close" to him.

"Right… So these are Jim's grandchildren?" he asked, gesturing towards the twins.

"Yes," the girl replied, keeping the young teens close. "Zoe and Zach. They are fourteen."

Zoe smiled brightly at them, while Zach only looked up with slight interest. They had the same black hair and blue eyes as their mother, but while Mira's eyes were cold and emotionless, the twins' were bright and warm.

"You don't look old enough to be their mother…" Mike commented, being elbowed in the side by Claire, who looked at him sternly. "What?"

"Yet I am. I am twenty nine years old," Mire revealed, with an inexpressive tone of voice.

Both Mike and Claire turned their heads on her direction quickly at the same time. She was older than them! But she didn't look any older than eighteen! The world is full of mysteries _indeed…_

Still, if she was twenty nine, and her children were fourteen… then she gave birth to them when she was fifteen.

Naturally noticing the conclusion forming in Mike's brain, Claire once again elbowed him to prevent him from making any further comment about it. Mira, however, seemed to once again read his mind.

"Yes, I gave birth to my children when I was fifteen. Unfortunately, the pregnancy was undesired and forced upon me, but I do not regret having them. They are my treasure," she explained, matter-of-factly.

While the twins looked up at their mother with loving smiles, the full extent of Mira's words was still hitting Mike like a ton of bricks. 'The pregnancy was undesired and _forced upon her_ '… She had been raped.

Either oblivious to Mike's horror at that realization or not really caring for it, Mira turned away. "Thank you for attending my father's funeral. It was a nice gesture." She then tapped her children's shoulders. "Now it is time for us to leave. We'll meet again once you come back to work."

The guard took a second to fight back his disgust, before raising an eyebrow at her affirmation. "Yeah?"

Mira nodded lightly. "I will take over my father's position as the janitor at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, under his request. It seems my abilities are required."

"Your 'abilities'… Oh!" Mike exclaimed, realizing what she meant. She was the new janitor Jim told him about when he visited him in a dream! He told him that the new janitor would be a medium (which explained how she could kind of read his mind), but he failed to mention it would be his daughter, who looked way younger than she was and seemed to have the emotional depth of a needle. And that was coming from _him_.

As the black-haired girl walked away with her children, Claire expelled some air from her mouth with a saddened look. "Can you imagine? Raising two babies at fifteen? She might talk about it like it's nothing now, but back then it must have been horrible… She is one strong girl," she commented.

Mike nodded in agreement. He could tell just by looking at her. That aura of power… He had a feeling Shadow Bonnie would have a harder time dealing with her than with Jim, which was certainly a positive thing.

"Kid," Lawrence called roughly from a distance. "What's taking you so long? I still have to take you to the hospital before going home, hurry up."

The guard sighed in annoyance before walking up to the manager, along with Claire, who held his arm and smiled comfortingly. Once he got there, he noticed Samantha was kneeling next to a tombstone. Mike leaned forward to read the name: "Keira Richards".

His eyes widened slightly. That was the grave! He walked up to Samantha, feeling it would be easier to get answers out of her than from her father.

"Hey Samantha," he greeted, to which the little girl looked up. "Who's that?" He gestured towards the tombstone.

Samantha lowered her head. "Mommy… She's in Heaven now," she explained.

Mike looked at the little girl and then at Lawrence. Keira was Lawrence's wife. Jim had said something about the manager having lost a lot, or something. Was that what he meant? The death of his wife had something to do with how he is now and with the pizzeria?

"I'm sorry. When did that happen, Sammy?" he asked kindly.

Samantha stood up, brushing dust off her shirt. "1987."


	6. Chapter 5 - Save Them

**Disclaimer: I do not own "Five Nights at Freddy's" or its characters.**

* * *

Mike woke up in pain. Maybe he shouldn't have forced his body to go to that funeral after all… As elucidative as it may have been, his body was obviously protesting.

Upon returning to the hospital that afternoon, he was immediately swarmed by nurses demanding to do check-ups on every inch of his body to make sure he hadn't done any damage. Even though the exams showed he was recovering well, he still felt a lot of pain during the night, which resulted on him waking up sweating and with his stomach aching.

"Ugh… I can't wait to get out of here…" he grunted, as he looked at the watch on his bedside table. Once his eyes connected with the digital device, his mouth opened slightly. "What are you doing here?!" he hissed.

The golden bird was hoping left to right on top of the watch, tilting its head. _Chirp._

"Not even at the hospital… Honestly…" He sighed and rubbed his eyes. "You're Golden Freddy aren't you?"

The bird blinked. It then twitched its head downwards and up, nodding as best as a bird could. _Chirp chirp._

"I appreciate that you show up to check on how I'm doing, but I would appreciate it even more if the dreams you show me were a little bit clearer…" he muttered. "I want to help, but it's hard when the clues are so freaking dubious…"

The bird tilted its head with a quizzical expression. _Chirp?_ It didn't seem like it knew what he was talking about.

The guard shrugged. "Ah whatever… I managed to find out something today anyway…" he declared. "Phil mentioned some 'Bite of 87' or something in one of his messages, and I think I just found out who was the victim."

 _Chirp…_ The bird chirped sadly as it hoped onto Mike's knee.

"It was Lawrence's wife, wasn't it? Keira Richards?" he asked, trying to sit up in his bed.

The bird flapped its wings and flew over to the doorknob. Once it landed on it, the door swung open, as if an invisible force turned the doorknob.

 _Chirp chirp_

Mike looked at the door apprehensively. "… You're not expecting me to follow, are you?"

 _Chirp!_

The guard sighed. "Fine…"

It was best not to question things anymore, he decided. Those dreams, revelations, and everything related to the supernatural – he should probably just go with it. Slowly, he got out of bed, taking his crutches and heading towards the door.

"You better go slowly 'cause I'm in no condition to run…" he warned.

The bird chirped and flew out into the corridor once Mike got to the door. One foot into the corridor and Mike almost fell back. He was not in the hospital anymore.

"What the – oh. Another dream, uh?"

He was now in an office that was decorated in a similar manner to the office he worked in at the pizzeria. It was easy to tell, however, that it had to be in another location, cleaner and brighter. He sighed again. Oh well. _Go with it._ If those dreams had the intention to show him clues, maybe he'd just have to keep an open mind to figure out what exactly those clues were.

There was a desk, crowded with monitors, a fan and a phone. Unlike his office, however, this one had no doors. Instead, there was an open hallway right in front, and one hole for the air vent in each wall. Mike frowned. Thank god his office wasn't like that. It would be way too easy for the animatronics to get in under those conditions. He'd have no way to stop them.

"Goldie…" he called, remembering the name Claire had chosen for it. "Where are we?"

The golden bird tilted its head on the direction of a sheet of paper that was on the desk. One look at it, and Mike could see the date.

" _10_ _th_ _November, 1987"_

Mike almost tripped in the hurry to look at the paper more closely. 1987. _1987._ "That's the year the 'Bite' took place!" he said. "So this is where it happened…"

 _Chirp_

He looked at the golden bird, who was already flying out of the office. Following the best he could, he looked at his surroundings, trying to see if there were any clues hidden somewhere. But no matter where he looked, there was nothing but children's drawings and posters of animatronics which he noticed where similar to the ones he had to face at the pizzeria, though different at the same time.

Freddy looked, well, _fat._ Bonnie was blue instead of purple. Chica was wearing pink booty shorts for some obscure reason. And Foxy…

"Hey! That thing!" He approached one of the posters, which read "FUN", along with showing the full body of a white fox with a massive pink bowtie. It had lipstick on and nail-polish, so it should be a female.

That was clearly some kind of remake of Foxy, but why on earth did they make it a female? Wasn't Foxy the Pirate a male? And why did he see that same fox (he recognized it because of its face) all torn up the previous night? It seemed like the kids were putting her back together – in their own twisted way…

"Man… I wonder what happened to her to get her all mangled," he muttered, turning to follow Goldie.

Once he did, he noticed that there was an open door to his left. And a dark large stain on the floor in front of it. Dark red…

" _Is… is that blood?"_ he thought, looking at it apprehensively.

" _ **S"**_

Mike jumped slightly, startled. He wasn't expecting to hear the robotic voice. Where was it coming from?

He peered at the dark room to his left, trying to see if there was someone inside. What he did see, however, made his heart drop to the floor in horror.

There was a child in there! Slumped in a corner, lying motionless. Covered in blood. The room was so dark it was hard to see the child's features, but it was girl considering it was wearing a dress.

"Oh my god – kid, are you okay?" He was about to enter the room, when the robotic voice spoke again.

" _ **A"**_

The door slammed in his face. He took a couple of steps back, looking at the door angrily. Only then did he remember he was in a dream. A vision or whatever. He couldn't do anything to help that kid. All he could do was see that she was there… probably dead… and try to figure out what happened to her.

"Damn", he hissed.

 _Chirp!_

"I know, I know, I'm coming…" Mike shook his head, trying to erase the image of the dead child from his mind. He faced forward, and almost stumbled back again.

"You!"

A tall slender figure was standing right in front of him. Colored black and white, grinning at him. The same puppet that had attacked him in the very first dream he had.

Mike took some steps back as a safety precaution. Who knew if that thing was not going to try and strangle him again?

The golden bird chirped from behind the robot, catching its attention. The puppet looked behind it, and tilted its head, mirroring the golden bird. Then, probably deciding it was much more interesting to follow it than to attack Mike, it turned its back on him.

The guard gulped. That was a relief. In his current condition, regardless of it being a dream or not, if he was attacked by that thing it would hurt _like hell._ He started following both Goldie and the puppet across the corridor until they got to a division soaked in a dark red liquid. Mike frowned. Was all of that blood? What the hell happened there?

" _ **V"**_

" _That voice again…"_

Mike looked at a corner of the room, ready to turn right and follow the puppet and the golden bird, when he had to do a double-take to make sure he had seen what he thought he did.

There was a room, as dark as all the others, where four figures sat still. And he knew those figures all too well. They were the animatronics, though horribly disfigured. From what he could tell, Chica's arms were torn to shreds and Bonnie had no face. He glanced at the label on the door – "Spare parts". Uh. So back in 1987, the robots he knows now were just used for parts? That made him wonder what happened to other animatronics for them to be replaced by the "spare" ones.

The door closed with a slam, revealing another suit that was hiding behind it.

" _ **E"**_

"What the…!"

It was a yellow bear with a microphone in his hands. Golden Freddy. It was covered in blood, with wires coming off his eye sockets and mouth. So Golden Freddy was an actual suit back in 1987 and not just an apparition. The previous night he had seen the suit on the TV, along with some sort of "golden Bonnie". Maybe those two suits were also active back in 1987, but were destroyed for some reason…

" _ **T"**_

Finally catching up with the golden bird and the puppet, he could see another child sitting in a corner. A young boy, this time. His face was shrouded in darkness, but he was covered in blood as well. Mike frowned as he passed the child, knowing that it wouldn't get him anywhere to try and help the kid. He knew it was a dream, but it still made his stomach turn to see those kids lying there, probably dead… No matter how much he wanted to help, he couldn't do anything. With that depressing thought in mind, he arrived to the end of the hallway.

Looking left would show him a dining area, with a stage much alike the one at the pizzeria he worked in. Standing on it were the 87's version of Bonnie, Freddy and Chica.

" _ **H"**_

Once again, the door slammed shut. That was his cue to progress, he supposed. He took the right path, seeing some more blood on the floor. Now he could either go onwards towards a dark room in which he could hear movement, or turn left, where the floor was soaked in blood. There was another corpse there, and a massive gift box.

The puppet went in that room, slithering past the golden bird, who looked at Mike quizzically.

" _ **E"**_

Mike was more interested in the dark room. Who was moving in there? Maybe one of the kids was still alive, and he could do something. As he got closer to the room, he quickly realized that was not the case. There was another dead child there, lost in the darkness. A boy, smaller than the others.

The culprit behind the noise of movement he was hearing was none other than the mangle of parts that must have been the 87's version of Foxy at one point. The mangled white fox stopped going back and forth in her room, and stared at Mike. The guard stared back, expecting the door to close abruptly.

But it didn't.

" _ **M"**_

"Save them", was what the voice was saying. He had heard that message before, coming from the TV.

"I know I'm supposed to 'save them'…" he said aloud, turning to look at Goldie, whom he assumed was still behind him. "But…"

" **YOU CAN'T"**

Mike froze. He was standing in front of someone tall. A man wearing a security guard uniform, exactly like his, though for some reason his skin, shirt, his everything, seemed to have a shade of purple to it. Suddenly, Mike felt like he couldn't breathe. What was going on? That fear… that hate… Was something he associated with Shadow Bonnie… But that guy couldn't be…

The purple man grinned wickedly and moved his hand towards his hat, which casted a shadow on his face. Just as he was about to show his face, everything turned black.

Once Mike opened his eyes again, he was staring at the hospital ceiling. The dream was over…

His breathing was erratic. He was sweating, and his eyes darted from one corner of the room to another. Not that feeling again…

He managed to sit up in his bed this time. Wiping the sweat off his forehead, he looked at the watch. 10 A.M.

"God, these dreams are gonna be the death of me…" he sighed, burying his face in his hands.

But now he had a suspicion as to what was happening at the pizzeria. Something horrible took place in 1987, not just the "Bite". Children died. And the murderer… must have been a guard. That guard he saw… that "Purple Guy". Maybe that was why whatever was controlling the animatronics made them go after the night guards. After all, they didn't bother the janitor. It was a guard. It was vengeance. But, since they didn't see his face, they don't know how he looked like and just go after every guard they see.

But why purple? Did the killer have something to do with Shadow Bonnie…?

* * *

 **[A/N - Hey there! :D I hope you're all enjoying this so far!**

 **This is the last "clues via dream" thing that I include in this arc, I swear!**

 **And hold on to your seats, boys and girls, 'cause next chapter we will finally know who will be the "other guard", heh.**

 **Any guesses?**

 **As I said many times before, any support and constructive criticism is always welcome :3]**


	7. Chapter 6 - Times of Change

**Disclaimer: I do not own "Five Nights at Freddy's" or its characters.**

* * *

Home, sweet home.

Mike sighed happily as he sat on the couch of his living room. Finally, he was out of that hospital! No more hospital food, no more hospital bed, and no more check-ups – he was home at last.

Sure, not everything was good news – he still had to be report back to the hospital next week to make sure his organs were indeed recovered, but for now Dr. McKinley had assured him that he was good enough to conduct the rest of his recovery at home. Plus, now that he was home, he would have to get back to work. Once Lawrence found a partner for him, of course.

After going to Jim's funeral, he stayed one more day at the hospital, during which he was bombarded with visitors. First, Claire and his parents, then Lawrence (who had been convinced by his daughter Samantha to visit him) and, finally, Ray.

The manager didn't have much to say to him – still no luck on getting a new night guard it seemed – but his daughter had been a sweetheart and made a get-well-soon card to give to Mike. At that point, Mike was pretty sure the little girl must have gotten her sweet nature from her mother, because she certainly didn't get it from her father.

Ray, on the other hand, went on a rant about how much he loved learning mechanics. As much as Mike wanted to believe his friend was finally straying away from the "life of crime", he didn't want to get his hopes up. Ray mentioned being taught by some "hot chick" who was apparently some kind of genius in the field. Mike couldn't help but smile. Could it have been that girl who got him into mechanics in the first place…? And then there was this…

"Well, nice to see you're doing alright, man. I gotta go – I have class in one hour," Ray said, standing up as he winked at him. "Before I forget, I met this one guy… he's into mechanics too. I told him about how you're a night guard at Freddy's, and he seemed pretty interested.

Mike remembered raising an eyebrow at that statement. "'Interested'?" he repeated.

Ray snorted. "Not like _that,_ man," he laughed. "He seemed to know a couple of things about the pizzeria, and when I told him you got seriously injured but still wanted to keep working there, he asked if he could get your number."

"What for?"

His friend shrugged. "Beats me. Maybe he's just into the stories that are told about the place and wants to know if they're true."

Mike didn't know how he felt about that. Lawrence had given him permission to tell the truth to Claire, but no way in hell would he allow him to tell anyone else. He wasn't sure if he should trust this guy Ray talked about… First, he had flirted with Claire, so he already had a bad impression of him… and second, why would he be interested in talking with the night guard of the pizzeria? Could he be some kind of reporter? Or maybe he was just over-thinking things…

At least that day he didn't have any weird dreams! Maybe Golden Freddy was out of clues to give him… And Mike still didn't understand the full extent of what was going on. But, now that he was back home, it would be easier for him to do some actual research.

Taking a second to stretch, he reached for a notebook and pen and started writing. It was probably for the best if he wrote things down before he forgot something.

"Do you want me to make you some coffee?" Claire asked sweetly, caressing his hair.

"Sure, thanks," he replied, pausing his writing to search his memory for anything he might have missed.

When Claire returned with his coffee, he put the notebook down to take the cup. As he took a sip of coffee, he re-read his work.

" _1\. What is controlling the animatronics and why?_

 _(Ghosts? Revenge against a guard?)"_

After reviewing the dreams he had in his mind and every single detail he could remember, he realized that that "Purple Guy" he saw in the last dream he had didn't necessarily have to be a _night_ guard. After all, the night and day shift uniform were exactly alike. The only reason why the animatronics didn't bother Stewart, the day guard, was because they didn't walk around during the day, so even if they wanted to hunt him down, they couldn't.

" _2\. Who is Golden Freddy and why is he/she helpful?_

 _(A ghost – maybe a little girl named Rika?)"_

After all, if the animatronics were controlled by ghosts, there had to be reason as to why that one in particular was trying to help him rather than get him killed. And it was too much of a coincidence that, on his experience with the "haunted" TV, he saw a ghostly girl saying "It's me" to Phil, considering that was pretty much Golden Freddy's "catchphrase". Whether or not it was Rika, the girl whose tenth birthday was being celebrated in one of the images he saw on the "haunted" TV, he couldn't be sure.

" _3\. Why does Golden Freddy use Phil's voice?"_

Mike really didn't have a clue about that one… If the ghost could contact Phil by using her own voice, why couldn't she contact Mike like that as well? Could she be disguising herself for some reason? Maybe she was hiding from someone…

" _4\. Who is the other Golden Freddy?"_

Again, no clue about that one. The two Golden Freddies were definitely different entities, but other than that, Mike had nothing else.

" _5\. Who is Shadow Bonnie? Did I meet him before?"_

All he could he imagine was that it had something to do with what happened to him when he was eleven that caused him to forget everything that happened prior to that day. He would have to ask his parents exactly what day that took place…

" _6\. Who was that crying child?"_

The very first image he saw on the "haunted" TV bugged him. He had seen an image of a crying child before – in a drawing, at the pizzeria. One of the things that led him to believe the place was actually haunted was the fact that the drawings on the walls randomly changed to depict a crying child. Where they related? He could only guess they were.

" _7\. Who was that guy in the prison cell? What was he arrested for?_

 _(Blonde, apologizing)"_

Mike had never seen that guy before. There was nothing in the cell, that he could remember, that would hint as to what he had done to get him in jail, or what it had to do with the pizzeria.

" _8\. What does Mira's assault have to do with the pizzeria?"_

He put down his coffee, frowning as he read the sentence. Mira had been sexually assaulted when she was fifteen, resulting in her getting pregnant and having twins. That was an awful thing to happen, but how did it relate to Freddy Fazbear's? If he saw it on the "haunted" TV then there had to be a connection…

" _9\. What was the 'Bite of 87' all about? Does it have to do with the reason why Lawrence wants to keep the place open?_

 _(Victim – Keira Richards)"_

Even though he was now pretty confident that Lawrence's wife had been the one to get bit, he wasn't sure under what circumstances that event took place. Why would an animatronic bite her? _Which_ animatronic did it? He had a pretty strong suspicion regarding that white mangled fox, but he didn't have any evidence. And he knew for a damn fact that Lawrence had some secret reason to keep the pizzeria open – something about losing something important? Did it have to do with Keira…?

" _10\. Who were those kids that died in 87? Who killed them?_

 _(A guard – why purple?)"_

'Why purple' indeed… It seemed too much of a coincidence that Shadow Bonnie would be purple as well… Those two were related somehow, but he wasn't sure how exactly.

" _11\. What is that 'puppet' thing?"_

And, last but not least, that creepy-ass puppet he saw _twice_ in his dreams. First time, that thing almost strangled him, and then it led him around the pizzeria from 87. He didn't know what to make of that thing.

He sighed, drinking the last of his coffee. Getting it all down on paper had been a good idea. Now he had order of business when he actually started doing some research. Claire had already shown how un-interested she was in finding out the "secrets of the pizzeria", so he would just have to figure it all out on his own. Hopefully Phil would wake up from his coma soon, and then he'd have someone to help.

* * *

"Do you want more rice, Mike?"

Mike looked at Claire for a second with a pleased expression. "Well, if I knew this was the treatment I would get for staying at the hospital, I would have gotten injured sooner…" he commented.

Claire narrowed her eyes slightly, though her smile remained in her face. "Don't joke about that," she scolded. "The state you were in when you got to the hospital… It was like a scene from a horror movie…"

"How would you know?" he retorted, his mouth full with rice and beef. "You hate horror movies!"

"I've seen enough to know how they look like. So, do you want more rice or not?" she asked again.

Mike shook his head. "No, thanks. I'm already struggling to handle what I have here…"

"You could have fooled me," Claire said. "By the way you're feasting, it's like you haven't eaten in months."

Mike had his mouth so full of food he couldn't utter a word. The result of him trying was him almost choking, which made Claire laugh loudly as he reached for his glass of wine, coughing violently.

"Take it easy, you might hurt your stomach!" she warned.

 _Ding Dong_

Since Mike was busy with tapping his chest lightly to recover from his coughing, Claire stood up to see who was at the door.

"Who is it?" she asked.

"Probably my parents or something…" Mike muttered weakly, drinking more wine.

The person on the other side of the door took some seconds to answer. "… Is this where Mike Schmidt leaves?" It was a female voice, young from the sound of it. Probably a teenager.

Claire frowned and looked at Mike with a questioning look. Mike mirrored her expression. He didn't recognize that voice.

"Who wants to know?" Claire questioned, looking at the door apprehensively.

"Is there where he lives or not?" the voice insisted, followed by a "hush" sound. Someone shifted their feet on the other side, and another voice, a boy's it seemed, made a "huff" sound.

Mike frowned, standing up. Who could that be? He didn't know any teenage girls… Why would one be looking for him? Well, the only way to find out would be to talk to the person.

He approached Claire, who was apparently ready to argue with the voice, and put his hand on her shoulder, showing her he would handle it. She crossed her arms and stared at the door again.

"This is Mike," he announced. "Now can you tell us who you are?"

"Lily Vallance," the girl replied promptly. "Your cousin."

Claire's eyes went wide as she stared at Mike. He blinked, and quickly unlocked the door. Once the door was open, Claire gasped and held his arm.

He had never seen his cousin before in his life. His only aunt, Cherry Vallance, had ran away with some guy when he was six years old. He knew he had two cousins now, but had never met them. But he had never expected them to be in _this_ condition.

The girl who had spoken to him was a curvy red-haired teenager now. She had a bruise in her cheek, which Mike assumed to be from someone slapping her really hard. She had another similar bruise in her arm, and was carrying a backpack. She was holding the hand of a young boy, with similar red hair. He looked at Mike and Claire with an extremely suspicious expression. He too carried bruises in his arms and face.

"Oh my God!" Claire gasped. "Get in – what happened to you two?"

The two siblings walked inside Mike's living room, lead by Claire. The blonde rushed to get the first-aids kit to attend to their wounds, as they sat on the couch.

Mike just stood there awkwardly, staring at them. He had no idea what to say. They had the look of someone who just ran away from home after one too many beatings. Judging from the bruises and backpacks, that was exactly what happened. Mike could only assume the one to beat them had to be that guy his aunt had ran off with.

Claire returned with some ice and the first-aid kit. She instructed Lily to put ice on the bruise she had in her arm, while she turned to her younger brother, with the intention of cleaning the cut he had in his leg. The boy moved away from Claire, glaring at her.

"Eddie," Lily called. "She's trying to help."

Her brother looked at her. He then crossed his arms and allowed Claire to treat his injuries.

Mike stared at the boy. He didn't trust them. If he had indeed been beaten by his father, he wouldn't be surprised, really. The kid probably didn't trust any adults.

"Uh…" Mike cleared his throat, thinking he should at least talk to them and understand what was going on. "Okay, well… So, you're Lily? And, uh, Eddie…?"

Lily nodded, grimacing as she placed the ice on her arm. "His name is Edmund, but everyone calls him Eddie," she informed. "I'm sorry we showed up like this, but…"

"Yeah, about that…" Mike took a quick glance at Eddie, who winced as Claire cleaned his cut. "What exactly happened?"

The red-haired girl looked at him. She had the same blue eyes as him. "The man our mother lives with… our step-father… We can't live with him anymore," she informed.

"Because he beats you," Mike stated, assuming he was correct.

Lily confirmed he was indeed right by nodding. "Obviously," she grunted. "We have no one else to turn too, so… I was wondering if you could… let us stay for a while."

Mike blinked, his jaw dropping slightly. He looked at Claire, who had been listening to the conversation. She looked back at him. He was expecting his girlfriend to have an apprehensive look, so he was surprised to see her with a look that clearly said "It's your responsibility".

"I… uh… well…" he stuttered, still not sure what to say.

As if he didn't have enough to worry about between figuring out what's going on at the pizzeria, worrying about whether he'll have a partner in the night shift or not and trying not to feel a hint of panic when thinking about having to face Shadow Bonnie again, now he had this…

Sure, he wanted to help them – they were his family, after all – but what could he do? He didn't have the money to raise them, or the conditions. But he couldn't let them go back to a house where they get beaten, or a foster home…

"Well?" Lily asked, looking at him sternly. "We need a quick answer, to give us enough time to find another place to stay in case you say no."

"I'm not saying – look, this is… not the best of times…"

Eddie made a "humph" sound. "See? I told you he wouldn't want to help…"

Mike waved his hands, exasperated. "That's not what I said! This is just… really sudden…!"

"Mike…" Claire called softly, with a concerned expression. "We have to do something…"

"I know that I have to – What is it now?!" He reached for his phone angrily, as it started ringing.

What else was going to happen, really? It was like the world had chosen the day he had returned from the hospital to start throwing changes at his face.

"What?!" he snapped at the phone, without even bothering to see who it was. Claire shook her head at his overreaction.

"… Bad timing?" asked an unknown male voice, with a hint of amusement. "Sounds like it. I can call some other time."

Mike frowned and took a quick look at the screen of his phone. _Unknown Number._ "Who is it?" he asked curtly.

"I'm talking to Mike Schmidt, right?" the person wanted to know, not showing signs of being put down by Mike's aggressive attitude. "Your friend Ray gave me your number."

The guard rubbed his temples. Great, now he had to deal with some random guy he didn't even know, who was probably going to bother him with questions about the pizzeria. He really didn't have time for it right now…

"Oh, right… Look, this isn't the best time…" he muttered, trying not to look at his cousins, who were watching him with curious expressions. "I'm dealing with some issues right now…"

"Hear that, we're 'issues'," Eddie commented, making air-quotation-marks around the word 'issues'. Lily told him to be quiet, watching Mike closely.

"Right, right…" the unknown make said. "Sorry if I'm bothering. Maybe we could meet up tomorrow then? There's this café in town that serves some good food… Mom's Café, you heard of it?"

"Sure, yeah, I know about it," Mike replied quickly.

"Great, I have some stuff to talk with you about," the man said, sounding satisfied and still completely indifferent to Mike's annoyance. "You know, about the pizzeria you work at? Ray told me you seem pretty adamant about working there, so…"

"Yeah, great. I have to go now…" Mike sighed. "Just tell me your name and we'll meet up tomorrow or… whatever."

"Oh, right, how rude of me," the man chuckled. "The name's Fritz. Fritz Smith."


	8. Chapter 7 - Fritz Smith

**Disclaimer: I do not own "Five Nights at Freddy's" or its characters.**

* * *

"I already told you, they showed up in my house and… No, I'm not their father! They're my cousins and their ste… Schmidt, yes. S-C-H-M-I-D-T… What do you mean, 'is there evidence'?! They had bruises all over them!"

Mike sighed in frustration on the phone as he stormed down the street. That conversation was going nowhere.

After his cousins unexpectedly showed up at his door, Mike found himself looking after two minors. As if he didn't have enough problems. He had just gotten out of the hospital! Did God enjoy tormenting him that much…? Of course he felt responsible – they were his family, after all – but he was naturally worried that he wouldn't be able to help them much. His parents (well, his _mother_ at least) immediately agreed to help with looking after them by providing money, but they would have to stay with Mike for now, as they could not have them in their house.

What needed to be done now was ensure they would not have to return to the house where they were abused by some jackass who got off on beating kids – the police was not making it easy on him though.

"Look, they're just fifteen and eight years old, they're afraid to get hurt again; you have to get that man arrest… I don't know his name, no…" he admitted, then rolling his eyes at the cop's reply. "Do you really think his wife is going to testify? He probably beats her too!"

He paused, glaring at the sidewalk.

"'There is nothing you can do'?!" he snapped. "Like hell, there isn't! Find out where they live and… Don't you tell me to calm down; I'd like to see you be calm if it was someone from your family who showed up at your doorst… Oh, yeah, sure, I'll call you when he beats them up again, yeah. Maybe next time he'll break one of their bones or almost kill them – maybe THEN you'll do something!"

And he hung up the phone, fuming. He never thought the police could be so useless. Wasn't the fact his cousins ran away from home with bruises enough evidence that there was domestic violence going on? What else did they need – one of them to turn up dead? He didn't know the guy's name, or their address, but surely they could find that out?

This was not the kind of mood he was expecting to be in so early in the morning... After everything that had happened the night before, he was hoping he would at least get a good night sleep and have it better the following day. But no – he had to deal with stupid cops who needed "evidence" to act and some guy he had never heard of wanting to bother him about the pizzeria. He almost decided not to go meet him, but curiosity convinced him he should at least see what this Fritz Smith wanted.

"I don't know why he would have any interest in that place…" Claire had commented, just before he had left the apartment that morning. "It's like suddenly everything is revolving around that pizzeria…"

Her animosity towards his work place hadn't decreased, it seemed. Even though she knew more about the place than he did, she didn't show that much interest in knowing what was happening there. In fact, every time he brought it up, she seemed exasperated. Sure, she supported him on wanting to go back to working there, but she obviously wasn't all that happy about it.

Mike finally got to the café. Once he stepped inside, he looked around. Claire had told him that the guy Ray had introduced to her had dark brown hair, which was long enough to tie in a ponytail, tanned skin and a scar on the left side of his neck. There was only one person at the café who matched that description, and he was at the moment talking to one of the waitresses. Whatever he was saying to her was getting her to smile shyly and blush. And the other two waitresses were also looking at him with obvious interest and envy over all the attention the other one was getting.

 _Great. Some Casanova-wannabe…_ "Fritz Smith?" he asked, once he got within three steps of the table the man was sitting at.

The man looked at him, with a lazy smile. "That would be me. You must be Mike Schmidt," he said, showing a hand for him to shake.

Mike shook his hand. "Yeah. So, can I sit?"

Fritz nodded. "Ah, sure. So sorry, sweetheart, but we'll have to continue this conversation some other time," he added, winking at the swooning waitress, who giggled and skipped away, completely forgetting to ask if Mike wanted anything.

"The waitresses here are great," the tanned man informed with a sly smile. "Pleasant, easy on the eyes, professional…"

"I don't know about 'professional'…" Mike grunted whilst staring at the counter, annoyed over being ignored.

Fritz noticed the reason behind his annoyance quickly. "Heh, sorry about that, my bad. Hey, honey," he called, snapping his fingers to get the attention of the waitress that had just left their side. "Bring my friend some coffee, will you please? Thank you." He then turned back to face Mike. "Don't worry, it's on me."

Mike was about to protest, but Fritz cut him off with a lazy hand gesture. "No use in arguing, I insist. It was me who bothered you with this meeting after all."

The guard closed his mouth and shrugged. "Fine, if you _insist…"_ All the better for him. Maybe this guy wasn't so bad after all.

"So Ray told me you just got out of the hospital," Fritz said, leaning back on his chair. "And yet you want to go back to work. Impressive. Most guys would take it as an excuse to stay a long while without working."

"I have my own business there," Mike stated, deciding not to give away too much about the pizzeria until he knew what Fritz wanted exactly. "Why are you interested in Freddy Fazbear's?"

The tanned man grinned, as the waitress hurried to hand Mike his coffee. "I could ask you the same thing," he retorted. "It takes more than being desperate for money for someone to keep being a night guard there, especially now…"

" _You're telling me…"_ Mike thought, pouring sugar on his drink.

"All with the robots moving around and trying to stuff you in a suit…"

Mike almost choked on the coffee he was drinking. Fritz readily handed him a napkin so he could wipe his chin but he didn't take it. "How do you – I mean, uh…" He cleared his throat, trying his best to regain his composure. "What makes you say that?"

"Nice try, but we both know what the robots will do to a night guard if they get their hands on them," Fritz declared, obviously finding Mike's reaction funny. "I should know. I've been there."

Mike frowned. "You… You've worked at the pizzeria before?" Why would a previous employee of the company want to talk with him?

"Sure did," he confirmed. "Not at the same one you work at now, though. No, the pizzeria I was at has been closed for a while… Five years to be precise…"

Some quick math helped Mike realize that the pizzeria Fritz had worked in closed in… "1987!" Mike gasped, before he could control himself. "Wait, do you know anything about a 'Bite'…"

"Hey, hey, calm down, we'll get to that," Fritz chuckled, hushing him with a hand gesture. "First things first, I should explain why I wanted to meet you."

His expression got suddenly very serious. Mike took a quick sip of his coffee so he could focus on Fritz and whatever he had to say. The guy had managed to secure his attention.

"I actually wanted to meet up with you because there have been a couple of things that bother me…" Fritz explained. "And they all go back to Freddy's. Did you see the news about the death of a man named Francis Anderson?"

Mike had seen it alright. He was at the hospital because of his shoulder when the accident occurred. Back then, he didn't know the man's name or connection to the pizzeria though. "Yeah, I've seen it. He was the son of the owner of Fazbear Entertainment, right?"

Fritz nodded. "Right. He was a good man… Back in 87, he was the manager of the pizzeria I worked at. Treated us like family, which is more than what I can say about his old man…" Fritz frowned, as if the sudden reminder of Jack Anderson made him feel aggravated. "Anyway, they haven't found the guy who caused Francis' death yet, but I don't think it was an accident at all."

"Why do you think that?" Mike wanted to know, as he adjusted himself on his seat. Back when he saw the news on the TV, he too considered the possibility of it not being a coincidence, but so far he hadn't gotten any proof.

"Because Francis called me before that. He sounded anxious." Fritz paused to drink some of his coffee. "You probably don't know, but back in 87 a lot of stuff happened that wasn't too good on the pizzeria's reputation… The 'Bite', as bad as it was, wasn't the worst."

Mike didn't say anything, waiting for Fritz to carry on with his explanation. He felt like he was finally getting some much needed answers.

"In 1987, five children were killed in the pizzeria," Fritz revealed, now not sounding amused in the slightest. "That was before the 'Bite'. They never found out who did it, and Mr. Jack Anderson tried to cover it up for as long as he could…"

"He tried to cover it up?" Mike hissed in shock, then looking around to see if anyone could have heard him. "You're kidding me? How could he cover up the fact that five kids _died_ there?"

Fritz made a small smile. "C'mon, Schmidt. If he doesn't mind covering up the deaths of his employees, what's stopping him from denying that a kid ever died there?" he retorted.

Mike wanted to argue, but a part of him had to admit Fritz made a good point. He liked this Jack Anderson guy less and less by each time he heard of him.

"The problem is that they never found out who did it," Fritz sighed. "There was a lot of fuss about a 'reenacting' of something, I'm not sure what, but in the end, the case was closed, the parents got a nice monetary compensation and the place was closed down."

"'Reenacting'?" Mike repeated. "What do you mean?"

Fritz shrugged. "I told you, I'm not sure what they meant. They were all pretty nervous though, talking about it being 'that tragedy' all over again… Francis said something 1977, but I was twelve back then so I have no idea what they were talking about…"

Mike crossed his arms, looking at his coffee with a thoughtful expression. If they called it a "reenacting", then it meant that those five kids that died in 1987 weren't the only ones. More kids died in the pizzeria. Ten years prior, in 1977…

A sudden realization made his eyes widen. 1977 – that was the year where he found himself in the woods, with no memories of what had happened before! When he was eleven… Could he have been involved in "that tragedy" Francis had mentioned to Fritz?

"You okay?"

Mike blinked, looking up at the ex-Freddy's employee, who was looking at him curiously. "Y-yeah, I'm, uh… So, what did Francis want when he called you?"

"Right. So, like I said, the guy who killed those kids was never caught," Fritz summarized, still looking at Mike with a slightly suspicious expression. "The day after the cops connect the disappearance of the kids to the pizzeria, the 'Bite' takes place," he continued. "Place is closed down, end of story. But then, just two weeks ago, Francis calls me. Saying he knows who was behind the murders."

"Really? How did he find out?" Mike stammered.

"Don't know. He just kept ranting about how he was right when he said that no human being could have done such a thing – I just assumed he meant that this guy, whoever he was, was an absolute monster…" Fritz explained, scratching his head.

Mike wasn't sure if he agreed with Fritz on this one. The image of Shadow Bonnie popped in his mind, laughing as the two girls from his dream were being tortured. He had a pretty good idea of what Francis _really_ meant.

Fritz went on. "He asks me to meet up with him and whoever I can find that worked at the pizzeria back then. He had something to tell all of us, but now I'll never know what…"

"So is that why you wanted to meet up with me?" Mike asked, finally understanding what the guy wanted. "You want me to help you discover what Francis had figured out?"

"I'm kind of out of options," Fritz admitted. "There were only three people asides from Francis that I got along with back when I worked at Freddy's, and none of them are in any condition to help me out. And since you seem to be pretty devoted to Freddy's…"

Mike didn't need to think about it for too long. Of course he would help. Figuring out what Francis had to say, about who had committed the murders, was obviously going to aid him on unraveling the secrets of Freddy Fazbear's and fixing whatever the hell was happening there. Plus, if he worked with Fritz, who had worked at the pizzeria back in 87, he would for sure be able to get a lot of information he wouldn't have in other circumstances. _And_ Fritz could perhaps help him on his own quest.

"Okay. I'll help, if you help me," Mike declared. "I want to figure out everything that is going on at the pizzeria."

Fritz chuckled. "Ah, I see. You want to _save them_." He noticed Mike's frown at his words. "You've been having dreams about the pizzeria too, haven't you?"

Mike's frown turned into an expression of surprise. "Wh – how do you know that?"

"Again, been there," Fritz said. "I worked the night shift like you for just one night. One night." He sighed, seemingly lost in memories of that one night he spent as a night guard. "But since then, I hear a voice begging me… to _save them._ "

"Golden Freddy," Mike muttered, more to himself than to Fritz, but the tanned man heard him.

"What?" he asked, looking at him quizzically. "Golden Freddy was scrapped along with most of the robots back in 87. Destroyed, I mean," he clarified, noticing Mike's look of confusion.

"Why?"

Fritz finished his coffee before answering. "Because he was connected to the murders. The killer used him to lure the kids into a safe room and then… well…"

"'Used him' how?"

"Golden Freddy was a specially designed suit that doubled as both animatronic and suit for entertainers to wear," Fritz explained, suddenly sounding very professional, which was weird to hear. "Since 1977, his ability to function as an animatronic with sentience was compromised. I don't know the details, but apparently he shut himself down. Since then, we sometimes placed an endoskeleton inside him so he could move around, but on those occasions he would interact with the kids by using a script, and couldn't think through his answers like the others or have any personality whatsoever. It was a bit uncanny really…"

"So the robots are sentient?" Mike inquired, raising an eyebrow. It would explain why Bonnie and Chica tried to warn him, actually. They could think for themselves and had personalities of their own, but whatever was controlling them managed to suppress all of that.

Fritz nodded. "Freddy, Bonnie, Chica and Foxy are all sentient. Golden Freddy and Spring Bonnie were too, but like I said, Golden Freddy shut himself down. A robotic form of suicide, so-to-speak…" he explained, sounding somewhat sorrowful at the thought of the robot "killing himself". "As far as I know, Spring Bonnie should still be at your pizzeria, but I don't know if he's still active. Been a while since he was last used…"

"Why's that?"

"He wasn't very safe to wear, truth be told," Fritz replied. "Some employees got hurt while trying to put him on because his spring-lock system was defective. Kind of sad really, 'cause out of all the robots, he was the sweetest. I never dealt with Golden Freddy himself, since he was already shut down when I started working there. Heard he was a bit grumpy though."

Mike thought for a few seconds. So, Golden Freddy "killed" himself the same year when "that tragedy" took place. That could not be a coincidence. And if the original Golden Freddy used to be a bit "grumpy", then it sounded kind of like the Other Golden Freddy. But robots didn't have souls, right…?

And why would Fritz hear Golden Freddy ask him to "save them" like Mike did? Maybe Golden Freddy was desperately trying to gather as much people from the pizzeria to help as possible…

"But, well, it seems like we are both being haunted by the same dream," Fritz said, grinning. "This was meant to be."

"Right. Look, about the 'Bite of 87'…" Mike started, but Fritz was already nodding, apparently expecting him to question him about that again.

"I knew you would come back to that. That was a pretty crappy day," he muttered. "There was a birthday going on that day. A little boy's… His older brother and his teenager friends pulled a 'joke' on him that could have gotten him severely hurt…"

Mike leaned forward on the table, afraid to miss out on any important detail. "Yeah?"

Fritz rubbed his eyes, apparently trying to remain composed while remembering the event. "They knew the kid was terrified of the robots. Actually, I don't think the kid was even having fun during his own birthday… even before they…" He gulped. "Well, what happened is that they thought it would be amusing to shove the kid's head inside Mangle's mouth."

"Who's Mangle?" Mike asked quickly.

"The, uh, name we gave to Foxy. The Toy version of Foxy back in 87, I mean," Fritz explained.

Mike blinked. He knew who Fritz was talking about – the white fox he had seen in his dream. No wonder the kid was afraid of robots; that thing creeped him out, and he was an adult.

"What happened is that, luckily, the kid fell before Mangle could do some damage…" Fritz continued. "Her teeth were pretty sharp, you see. It was actually really weird, it was almost like _something_ pulled the kid away from the robot… Unfortunately, there was a music teacher accompanying her students at the pizzeria the same day. She saw what was going on, and approached the teens to give them a scolding. But… Mangle came up behind her and…"

His voice trailed off, and Mike could see what happened as if it was happening right before his eyes. A woman – though he had no idea who Lawrence's wife looked like – scolding a group of annoyed teenagers, and the white fox lurking behind her, snapping her jaws in her head…

He shook his head abruptly, trying to erase that image. "God…"

"Yeah…" Fritz nodded lightly. "One of her students was right next to her too when it happened… She was covered in blood, horrified… The kid that almost got bit wouldn't stop crying…"

"The teacher died, right?"

Fritz looked him with a saddened look. "She did," he confirmed. "But not from the bite. The doctors were optimistic regarding her condition, said she would survive just fine, even with the damage to her frontal lobe. But by the end of the year, while she was still at the hospital, she… killed herself."

Mike leaned on his chair, horrified. How it must have been awful for Lawrence, to hope that his wife would get better after sustaining brain injury, only to then find out she had taken her own life… And their daughter was only three years old by then…

"Keira Richards," Fritz sighed. "That was her name. The day of the 'Bite' was the day I took over the night shift, actually…"

"How did that go?" Mike wanted to know.

Fritz chuckled. "Not that good. I was partially to blame, honestly, but that doesn't really matter right now," he said, matter-of-factly, before turning a grin to Mike. "What matters right now is that you do well at your job. You're the one that's risking his life after all. Though I gotta ask – I saw this job offer on the newspaper, asking for a night guard. Are you being replaced?"

"No," Mike said, shaking his head. "Uh, the manager of the pizzeria is looking for another night guard so we can work together. Thinks it'll be safer that way…"

"Well, it should be," Fritz agreed, nodding. "At least someone is making an effort to help out the staff." He took a quick look at his watch and clicked his tongue. "Ah, almost forgot I promised to have lunch together with one of my… female colleagues."

He made a cheeky grin, to which Mike narrowed his eyes. He _was not_ letting that guy near Claire, no matter how nice he was.

"I gotta go," Fritz announced, standing up. "So we have a deal, right? You help me and I'll help you."

"Deal," Mike said, standing up as well. "After all, our objectives are pretty much the same, when we think about it. Funny that you mentioned the job offer… are you employed right now?" he asked, trying to sound casual as he got a sudden idea.

Fritz shot him a suspicious look. Damn, that guy was much more perceptive than he thought. That or he was a terrible liar. "No… I'm just helping out a fellow mechanic giving classes but it's not like I'm getting paid to do it… Why do you ask?"

"Oh, no reason. So, we meet up tomorrow to gather the info we each have?"

"Yeah, let's do that. Gimme a call."

The tanned man left the café, not without stopping briefly next to the waitresses to get their numbers. Mike shook his head lightly as he reached for his cell phone. He searched for a specific number, praying to God that the man he was about to call was in a good mood.

It took a while for the man to answer his call.

 _Click_

"You better have a good reason to call me in the middle of my daughter's ballet dance recital, kid," Lawrence grunted as way of answering the phone.

Trying not to sound too surprised at the thought of Lawrence watching kids dance in tutus – the image was kind of comical, actually… - he cleared his throat and made an effort to sound cheerful.

"Good morning, boss. You know how you haven't been able to find someone to work with me on the night shift? Well, search no more. I believe I just found the other guard."

* * *

 **[A/N - Hello, peeps! :D**

 **So, "Five Nights at Freddy's 4" just recently came out... and yeah, we finally know exactly how the "Bite of 87" transpired. And it wasn't how I planned on my AU xD But, I managed to include the story in a way I think actually makes sense, with a few changes of course - like who the victim was and who caused the bite, though the boy is still present, along with his dick of a brother. There will be more detail on it in future arcs, don't worry.]**


	9. Chapter 8 - Back to Work

**Disclaimer: I do not own "Five Nights at Freddy's" or its characters.**

* * *

Mike was not used to this. Sharing the house with someone other than Claire was something he didn't expect nor think about. Sure, one day, _maybe,_ he'd think about starting his own family, but handling a child and a teenager was not in his immediate plans.

Yet, there they were. Devouring the dinner Claire had made that day as if they hadn't eaten anything half-way decent in months. Mike had barely touched his food, too busy watching Lily and Eddie demand more food at the same time, 75% amazed and 25% disgusted. He thought all girls were supposed to have better manners at the table than boys, but it seemed his cousin Lily had skipped that gene. She was as much of a sloppy eater as her younger brother, and Mike was almost expecting her to burp loudly at the end of her meal.

Claire had already finished eating, and was watching the two youngsters with a similar expression to Mike's. "Um, you two, maybe you could slow down…" she suggested. "You could get indigestion or something…"

Eddie said nothing, whilst Lily shook her head, her mouth too filled with food for her to talk.

Claire looked at Mike sternly, as if she blamed him for their behavior. "Same genes as yours," she whispered.

Mike felt slightly offended by that insinuation, but decided to simply shrug. He actually felt like quite the gentleman when comparing his manners to those of his cousins. But, taking into consideration the kind of environment they lived in, he would actually expect them to be much worse.

The seemingly fruitless conversation the guard had over the phone with a police officer gave off some results, unlike what he had anticipated. That afternoon, a representative of the child social services visited their home, after receiving a notification from the police. Perhaps yelling at the cop had helped in making things run quicker… The lady asked to talk with Lily and Eddie in private after Mike summarized the situation for her, so he had no idea what the siblings had told her exactly. As she was leaving, she assured him and Claire that the police would pay Mr. Derek Jones (the name of their stepfather) a visit and they would make sure that the siblings wouldn't have to live with him anymore. That meant, of course, that while they took care of things, the siblings had to stay with them.

Mike sighed and decided to finally start eating. It was no use. His life was being turned upside-down left and right, and there was very little he could do other than go with it. Now he was a guy with a ridiculously stressful job, with a mission to solve a never-ending roll of mysteries, and two kids to take care of.

" _They better have a throne waiting for me when I die…_ "

He was about to try the potatoes in his plate when he noticed his youngest sibling, Eddie, was staring at him. The young boy was in reality very similar to how he looked as a child (asides from his hair being red), and – like his father insisted on reminding him – just as rebellious and stubborn. The eight year-old looked too revolted for his age, though, and he had obvious trust issues as far as adults were concerned.

"What?" the guard asked, shoving the almost cold potato in his mouth.

Eddie narrowed his eyes. "Don't you have a job?"

"Sure I do. But I just got out of the hospital, so I'm only going back to work tomorrow," Mike explained. "And I work the night shift, so I'll be around during the day…"

"As if I care if you're here or not," Eddie spat, pushing his plate away, finally done with eating. "I just asked 'cause I don't want some loser who can't take care of himself looking after me and my sister."

Mike's fork dropped on the plate. His eyebrow twitched. "What was that, _brat_?"

"Eddie."

At the sound of his sister's scolding voice, Eddie crossed his arms and didn't say another word. Lily looked at her cousin as she wiped her mouth with a napkin.

"Sorry about that," she said. "You'll be hearing a lot of that from him, and worse. He's always like that, don't take it personally."

Mike picked up the fork again and stabbed it on another potato with unnecessary force. Damn, now he was getting told off by some kid. It was going to be even harder to deal with them than he thought…

"What exactly is your job?" Lily asked, apparently trying to keep the conversation friendly.

"Night guard," he replied, taking a quick glance at Eddie as the boy made a small snort that showed he didn't believe it. "I work the night shift at a pizzeria nearby. You probably heard of it – Freddy Fazbear's Pizza?"

 **CRASH**

Lily dropped the glass she was holding, which shattered to pieces as it fell on the floor. Claire jumped on her chair, startled, and hurried to get up from her seat to clean up the mess.

"Lily, are you alright?" she asked, worriedly.

"Y-yeah…" Lily muttered, squeezing the hand that held the now broken glass, as if to stop it from shaking. "I'm alright…"

"What was that about?" Mike inquired, raising an eyebrow as he looked at her. No question about it – something about the mention of Freddy Fazbear's Pizza made Lily react like that.

The red-haired teenager avoided looking at him at all costs. "Oh, it's nothing… I just…"

"She doesn't like robots," Eddie explained, stretching in his chair, apparently not caring about what was going on around him. "That pizzeria is the one with the robots that can talk and move on their own, right? That's pretty much her worst nightmare right there."

"Oh… So you're scared of animatronics?" Mike asked. "That's alright; we all have our own fears. I mean, take me for instance – I _hate_ snakes."

Lily made a small smile. "I actually don't like anything that resembles human motions… Like mannequins or dolls…" she informed. "I don't mind snakes though."

Claire sniffed. "Snakes are a living being, they're not monsters," she stated. "They deserve as much respect as any other animal. The reason why so many people are terrified of snakes is all because of stupid folklore and mythology. Every attack conducted on humans was just them trying to defend themselves – there is a higher probability of someone getting killed by a cow, and yet, people adore cows and take them as peaceful, and even _holy_ creatures in some countries!"

Lily looked up at Claire, apparently mildly interested in what she had to say, while taking a second to elbow Eddie, who had made a loud snoring sound.

Mike decided to drink his wine instead of responding to Claire's preaching over the rights of snakes. It was a wonder to him how she could simply adore all animals as equals, even down to bugs, which, usually, girls loathed with a passion. He suppressed a snicker as he remembered a particular event in which she scolded a bus driver for almost running over a dog that was crossing the street. The traffic was held back for hours that day…

Claire finished her speech relatively quickly, and then looked at Mike with a frown. "You're really going back to work tomorrow?"

He looked back at her. "Yep. The answer's not changing no matter how many times you ask, by the way," he commented, since Claire had already made that question at least five times.

"I can't believe you went and got that guy, Fred, to work with you…" She shook her head, dusting the glass shards to the trash can.

"His name is Fritz," Mike corrected.

"What kind of a name is that…?"

Getting the ex-Freddy's-employee to go back to work the night shift had been a slightly complicated issue. Once Mike called Fritz during the afternoon, the Casanova-wannabe thought that Mike had some news regarding their "investigation", and was understandably apprehensive about accepting the job offer. He had been there before, after all, even if it was for just one night. He knew how bad it could be. But, once Mike pointed out that at least he'd get paid, and that it would be safer considering he wouldn't be alone, he ended up agreeing. Having someone who had faced off against the animatronics before could only be an advantage.

And then there was Lawrence... Upon checking the list of previous employees, the manager discovered Fritz used to work as a technician at the pizzeria from 1987, but got hired as night guard once the previous guard was transferred to day shift. According to the records, Fritz was fired the next day for "tampering with the animatronics", though Mike wasn't sure what that meant. Lawrence was less than impressed by this, but he had no one else applying for the job. As he put it – "he'll have to do".

"And, well, the guy's not that bad, really," Mike admitted. "Gets a little distracted if there are girls around, but the only girl during our shift if Chica, so I doubt he'll be interested…"

"What about the janitor?" Claire reminded. "That girl, Mira – she should be there by the time you two go to work, right?"

Mike looked at his plate for a few seconds. He had completely forgotten about that. Though, taking into consideration Mira's personality, he didn't think Fritz would get very far with her…

* * *

"You're late." Mike glared daggers at the man who had just parked his car next to his.

They had agreed to go to work at 11 P.M. so he could have enough time to show him the ropes, but they only had half an hour for their shift to start.

Fritz raised his hands in defense, grinning at Mike's expression of annoyance as he walked up to him. "Sorry, sorry… My services were required elsewhere," he declared. "It would be very rude of me to not answer a distressed lady's…"

"Yeah, don't wanna hear it," Mike interrupted quickly. The less he heard about his new partner's personal life the better. "Let's just go in, alright?"

Mike opened the door to the pizzeria, and allowed stepped in, followed by Fritz, who looked at his surroundings with a slightly disappointed look.

"This doesn't look very cheery…" he commented. "The pizzeria back in 87 looked much more bright and fun."

"Yeah, well, back in 87, they didn't have the bad reputation they do now," Mike retorted, trying to conceal the chill he felt go down his spine once he got in. The drawings on the walls, the wires hanging on the ceilings, the deep scratches on the floors… He was back. He was back at that hellhole again. "Well, let's check the dining area quickly before going to our office."

The two guards walked down the hallway, Fritz making a short pause to look at the backroom, until they arrived at the dining area. Mike looked at the show stage, with an odd mixture of dread and pity. The animatronics were still there, motionless and expressionless. They wouldn't stay motionless for long, of course, but while they did, Mike couldn't help but feel sorry for the damned things. They had been made to keep children happy, and now they were being used to kill people.

Fritz stood in front of the stage, looking up at them. "Hm they don't look exactly how I remember them," he muttered, scratching his chin. "Not as bulky… and their eyes are different."

Mike remembered the last dream he had back at the hospital. He had seen the animatronics in the spare parts room, but they were all torn up. "These were only used for parts back in 87, right?"

His partner looked at him, nodding. "Right. The management thought they looked too scary," he explained. "And they kinda smelled. So they got some guy to build the Toy Bots, based on the originals, but meant to be more kid-friendly."

Mike raised an eyebrow, remembering The Mangle and Toy Chica's booty shorts. "'Kid-friendly', uh?"

Fritz seemed to know what he was thinking and shrugged. "Hey, it wasn't my place to decide how the bots looked like," he said. "I was just supposed to repair them in case something went wrong and manage their programming."

"So why are they…" Mike pointed at the animatronics. "… here now, instead of the Toy Bots?"

"The Toy Bots were scrapped, just like Golden Freddy," Fritz replied. "Someone tampered with their facial recognition system, and not even I was able to fix it. They got more and more aggressive towards the staff, until the owner just got sick of it and decided to destroy them."

"Speaking of tampering…" Mike started, trying not to sound accusatory. "You got fired on your first day as a night guard, right? For tampering with the robots?"

" _That…"_ he spat, obviously annoyed now. "… was not how it happened, alright? I was trying to help." He sighed. "It backfired, sure, but I was not trying to make things worse… I just wanted to try and repair them one last time, but it all went wrong…"

"What went wrong?" Mike insisted.

Fritz crossed his arms, stomping his foot. "I don't want to talk about it," he grunted. "I failed, alright? I messed up – I thought I could fix everything but I couldn't, end of story."

Mike decided not to keep pushing him. It was obviously a difficult issue to discuss for him. He could guess what had happened from what Fritz had said though; someone tampered with the Toys, making them more aggressive, and Fritz tried to fix it. It doesn't work, the management blames him for everything, fires him and the robots get destroyed. Just how many things had gone bad in the history of that pace?

"Hello."

Mike was used to someone sneaking up on him now, sadly, so he wasn't surprised to hear a whispered voice speak from behind him. Fritz, however, was startled and took a couple of steps back.

The guards turned around to see a black-haired girl standing behind them, mop in hand, and a stoic expression.

"Hi, Mira," Mike greeted.

Fritz looked at him and then at her. "Hey, uh, who are you? You shouldn't be here, you know?" He seemed worried, and Mike could guess why. Mira looked younger than she was, and no one who didn't know better would guess she was any older than eighteen.

Mira turned her inexpressive stare towards Fritz. "My name is Mira Taylor. I am the janitor," she informed. "I already know your name. Fritz Smith, correct?"

The guard blinked. "Janitor?" he repeated.

"She's 29," Mike said to Fritz, to clear his confusion.

It was as if new life had been brought to his partner. His face immediately illuminated and he assumed the same posture he carried around the waitresses back at Mom's Café. He took Mira's free hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it lightly.

"It is a pleasure, dear Mira," he purred, looking at her as if she was the most beautiful being he had ever seen in his life.

Mike rolled his eyes. Just a second ago he was confused and worried, but once he knew she was not a minor, it was back to flirtatious Fritz. Mira didn't seem all that interested in anything he had to say though, as she simply stared at him with the same inexpressive look.

"So you are Schmidt's new partner?" she inquired, turning her gaze in Mike's direction. "Was it a wise decision?"

"We'll be fine," Mike stated. "Trust me."

The janitor stared him a for a couple more seconds, scanning him with her piercing blue eyes, and then nodded. "Very well. Your friend has been waiting for your return, Schmidt. She's worried."

Fritz interrupted his adoration towards Mira to give Mike a questioning look. "She?" he repeated, sounding slightly interested.

Mike knew who Mira was talking about. That pretty much confirmed his suspicions that Golden Freddy was indeed that girl Rika he had seen on the "haunted" TV. He hadn't told Fritz about that…

"I'll explain it to you in the office," he said. "We'll be on our way then."

Making sure to grab Fritz' arm to drag the unwilling partner away from Mira, he started making his way towards the office where he'd be, again, fighting for his life. Fritz waved at Mira dramatically.

"I'll be seeing you tomorrow, sweetheart. Dream of me, will you?"

Mira did not bother to answer and turned away to keep mopping the floor.

Mike felt it was now safe to let go of Fritz and released his arm. His partner almost skipped next to him, grinning.

"Well, there are definitely going to some up-sides from working here," he realized. "That is the finest janitor I've ever seen."

"She has kids," Mike informed flatly.

"Still fine," Fritz said. "I wouldn't mind getting to know her better…"

" _Yeah, good luck with that…"_ Mike thought, partially amused. It was going to be very interesting to see Fritz try to "sway" Mira and fail miserably. She did not seem like the kind to just fall into the arms of any good-looking guy who hits on her. Undesirable, considering how she ended up with two kids…

"So, here is where you'll be spending the nights," Mike announced, gesturing towards the entrance of their office. Fritz frowned. Obviously the office he had worked at back in 87 looked better. "Now, no need to make that face. You should have seen it when it wasn't clean…"

In fact, the office was now missing its characteristic cobwebs and dust. Even the balls of paper that once crowded the desk were gone. For a second, he wondered if it had been Mira the one to clean the office, and why didn't Jim do it before. There were two chairs there now as well, naturally.

"What are these?" Fritz asked, meaning to click the blue button on the wall.

"AH!" Mike snapped Fritz' hand away from the button, grinning as his partner made an offended expression. "No touching the buttons. That's for the door. Didn't you have those back in 87?"

Fritz looked at the buttons again, frowning. "We didn't have doors in the office back then…" he revealed. "We had an air vent on each side and an open hallway in front."

Wow, so things were actually _worse_ back then? How did the night guards manage to keep the robots away without the metal doors?

He cleared his throat. "Well, they're here now, but we have to use them wisely. So, just listen up and pay attention – I'm only explaining this once…"

Fritz sat on one of the chairs, crossing his legs and leaning back. Mike suppressed a smile, remembering how it had been thanks to Phil Grayson that he learned what to do in his job, via messages. Now _he_ was the mentor. He took one quick look at the phone, and then started explaining.

* * *

 **[A/N - It's back to work now, Mikey! And now it will be your 7th Night on the job - technically. At least you have company now, right...?]**


	10. Chapter 9 - Seventh Night

**Disclaimer: I do not own "Five Nights at Freddy's" or its characters.**

* * *

"So, you got everything?"

Fritz stared at the tablet he was holding in his hands for a while before nodding. "Watch the cameras through the tablet, kitchen camera doesn't work, check Pirate Cove from time to time, use door lights to see if they're at the entrance, close doors only when they're there," he summarized. "Unless it's Freddy, in which case we close the door once he's at Cam 4B."

"Good," Mike praised. "It's a good thing you've faced off against the animatronics before, 'cause if I was explaining all of this to some new guy I wouldn't be surprised if he bailed on me."

"Yeah, but things are pretty different now," Fritz observed, switching through the camera views on the tablet attentively. "Back in 87, we had to check different screens, and we didn't have to worry about running out of power. I suppose the management doesn't have that much money now…"

Mike took his seat on the chair he had occupied for six nights in a row already. "Speaking of which, how did you keep the robots away back then?" he asked. "You said there were no doors…"

"We had a mask," Fritz said, pausing to observe Pirate Cove on the tablet. "Our head of security convinced the manager to get the night guards a mask just like the ones entertainers sometimes wore to trick the robots. Plus we had a flashlight."

Mike raised an eyebrow. "How did a flashlight help?"

"All the robots share a sensitivity to light," Fritz clarified, his voice sounding oddly professional again, as it always did whenever he spoke about some technical detail. "Both the original robots and the Toy Bots would suffer a system reset whenever light was flashed in their eyes. I don't know if that would still work…" he added, noticing how Mike was now staring at the flashlight that rested on the desk.

"Worth the shot." Mike picked up the flashlight, and held it like it was the most important object in the world. He sighed. "After seven days, they're gonna be even more aggressive… It amazes me how Phil managed to endure four months…"

Fritz looked up from the tablet. "Phil?"

"Yeah, the guy that worked here before me," Mike clarified, gesturing vaguely at the phone. "He left behind some messages to help the next guard out. I probably wouldn't have made it this far if it wasn't for him."

"His name wouldn't happen to be Phil Grayson, would it?" Fritz inquired, with a light smile.

"Yeah, why?"

Fritz chuckled. "Because that sounds a lot like him. He used to leave messages for the night guard back in 87 too. He was the head of security back then."

"Why would he be a night guard here then?" Mike wondered, confused. "As the head of security, he'd get more money, why would he…"

"He loved this place too much, I suppose," Fritz said. "Maybe he wanted to make sure that the place stayed open, and he might have wanted to check if things were really as bad as he heard they were during the night. You know where he is now?"

Mike thought for a while, considering whether or not he should tell him. He decided maybe it was best if he did – if they were going to help each other out with their investigations, they should be honest to each other.

"He's at the hospital," Mike said. "Got attacked on his last week on the job."

Fritz sighed, sounding relieved. "Ah that explains why he didn't answer my calls. I was actually considering the possibility of him being… you know."

Mike nodded. He had believed Phil Grayson to be dead too after hearing the message from the previous guard's fourth and final message. "So I suppose he's one of the people you tried contacting to help you out?"

"Yeah, I didn't bother to try and contact the other two people I was closest to at the pizzeria once Phil didn't answer," Fritz explained. "I already know what happened to them and they can't help me."

"What happened?" Mike wanted to know.

Fritz stared at the tablet for a while before clearing his throat to answer. "One's dead. The other one is at a mental hospital."

Damn. He was _really_ out of options then. Just how many people involved with Freddy Fazbear's ended up having tragic ends to their lives anyway?

"I'm sorry to hear it. Well, fifteen minutes to midnight," Mike noticed, checking his watch. "We better get ready."

"Right. Hey, listen," Fritz said, tapping the tablet lightly. "I actually want to try something."

Mike looked at him with a frown. "What?"

"Remember how I was fired for 'tampering' with the animatronics?" Fritz emphasized the word "tampering" in a sneering tone. "I was trying to make them more docile, get them go back to how they were, you know?"

"Yeah?" Mike didn't know where Fritz was going with this.

"The thing is, since they had been tampered with in a pretty rudimentary manner, what I tried doing only made things worse…" He gulped. "But, these robots haven't been tampered with yet…"

"How were they tampered with?" Mike asked, still not understanding what the point of that conversation was.

"I think the one that killed the five kids back in 87 messed around with their facial recognition system so they would see all adults as threats," Fritz explained quickly. "That way the robots would just be aggressive towards any adult, and not just him, in case something happened."

"Right, and that concerns us how…?"

Fritz adjusted himself on the seat, seemingly a bit nervous. "Well, like I said, these robots haven't been tampered with yet… So, there is a chance that I can keep them docile…"

Mike finally understood what Fritz was going for. He raised a hand to stop him from carrying on. "No."

"I know it can backfire, but if it works…" Fritz insisted.

"That is one hell of a big 'if'," Mike retorted. "What if it makes them get even worse? Look, the reason why they attack the night guards isn't even their fault – they're being controlled!"

"By who?" Fritz inquired, raising an eyebrow in a skeptical expression.

"That I don't know, but if you're not sure that it will work, I don't think we should mess around with them," Mike stated. "If they break down, or get even more aggressive, we can end up dead, or worse – _Lawrence_ finds out…"

"How can getting chewed on by our boss be worse than dying?" Fritz asked, doubtfully.

"Trust me. It would be worse."

Fritz didn't take this warning into consideration and waved his hand dismissively. "Alright, there are risks, but if things work, the reward will be worth it, right? I mean, the robots will be like, big, metallic lambs that just want to play!"

Mike glared at his new partner. Damn it, he was actually considering the possibility… What if it _did_ work? Then they wouldn't have to be in a constant stress of trying to survive… But what if it failed?

"So, what do you say?" Fritz asked eagerly.

"I'm thinking!" Mike hissed. After a few seconds, he sighed heavily and nodded. "Alright, alright, we'll give it a shot… But if this fails, I'm blaming you," he warned.

Fritz put up his hands. "I'll take responsibility, no problem. Take a handheld radio, and I'll give you instructions…"

"Whoa, whoa!" Mike stood up angrily. "You'll give _me_ instructions? I thought you were going to be the one to try and fix them or whatever, you're the ex-technician, not me!"

"The boss likes you, he won't mind. If it was me, though…" Fritz commented.

Mike had to laugh at that statement. "Lawrence _likes_ me? Yeah, right – he wants to adopt me and everything, seriously…" he retorted, sarcastically. "I'm getting the feeling that you're trying to get me in trouble here."

"Nonsense, I told you I'd help you out and I will," Fritz assured. "But you understand, if they catch me messing with the animatronics for the second time, I'll never find work in this area again…"

Mike stared at Fritz angrily for a couple of seconds. He was starting to regret his decision to get Fritz to be his partner really fast. He understood his position, but he felt extremely uncomfortable with the thought of having to mess with robots' system.

"I don't like this. I _really_ don't like this."

"It will all work out, promise." Fritz smiled, pleased that Mike agreed with his idea. "And like I said, if it fails I'll take the blame. If it works, we'll get an easy job, chilling in this office…"

"Yeah, chilling, sure…" He seized the handheld radio Fritz was showing him harshly. "This is a bad idea. This is a _terrible_ idea."

* * *

"Have I mentioned this is a terrible idea?"

 _"_ _Next, you have to type in what I tell you,"_ Fritz told him through the radio, completely ignoring Mike's muttered complaints.

Mike was squatting in front of Foxy, who was, as usual, locked up in Pirate Cove. He had a programming computer in front of him, which he had found in the spare parts room, and was following Fritz' instructions attentively. He didn't know if things were going to work out for the best, but at least they were giving it a shot. Assuming Fritz was right, and things with the Toy Bots had only failed because someone had messed up their programming beforehand, then there was a chance they were actually doing some good there… Still, something told Mike that things were not going to go so smoothly.

"Alright, I typed in this… 'overwrite AI stabilizer' thing…" Mike grunted, looking at the screen of the computer, which was connected to Foxy via a cable that came out of the fox's skull. "What now?"

 **"** **What are you doing?"**

Mike smiled, actually feeling happy to hear that familiar robotic voice. He looked over his shoulder to see Golden Freddy sitting behind him, staring at the computer apprehensively.

"What about my greeting, uh?" he asked, amused. "No 'it's me' warning this time?"

 **"** **What are you doing?"** the ghostly bear insisted, punctuating the words this time.

"It's this thing that overwrites the program that keeps the animatronics' AI the same every day and allows us to change them to a minimum level," Mike replied, repeating what Fritz had told him.

 **"…** **What?"**

Mike laughed. "Yeah, I don't understand it all that well myself…"

 _"_ _Who are you talking to?"_ Fritz inquired from the handheld radio.

 **"** **Who's that?"** asked Golden Freddy. **"Is that Mr. Smith?"**

"Wait, you know him? Hold on a sec." Mike turned to the radio. "Hey, Fritz, remember how Mira said that a friend of mine was waiting for me?"

 _"_ _Oh yeah, almost forgot about that,"_ Fritz confessed. _"There's no one here though…"_

"That's because she shows up randomly," Mike explained. "She's here with me right now. Say 'hi'." He turned the radio on the bear's direction.

Golden Freddy looked down at the radio. **"Hello. Is this Mr. Smith?"**

There was a pause.

 _"_ … _Is that Phil?"_ Fritz asked, sounding confused. _"That's Phil's voice, what the hell…"_

"Yeah, I don't know why she does that," Mike admitted. "So how do you know him?"

The bear frowned. **"He was there in 1987… A guard"**

 _"_ _Who the hell is that, Mike?"_ Fritz asked, sounding nervous. _"The voice sounds all messed-up… like a robot… Hey, what is that beeping noise?"_

Mike turned back to the computer. There was a faint beep coming out of it, and there were words appearing on the screen that Mike was pretty sure he had not been responsible for typing.

 _"_ _DIDN'T_

 _YOUR_

 _MOTHER_

 _TEACH_

 _YOU_

 _NOT_

 _TO_

 _TOUCH_

 _OTHER_

 _PEOPLE'S_

 _STUFF?"_

Mike narrowed his eyes at the screen. What the hell? The words vanished, and a small box appeared, with "Yes" or "No" options.

"Um… Fritz?" the night guard called. "Something showed up on the screen…"

 _"_ _Is it asking you what level you want to put the AI in?"_

"No… It says…" Mike leaned forwards to read the ridiculously small words. "'Program animatronics' AI to 20…"

There was a sound of something slipping and stomping the floor coming from the office.

 _"_ _What, no! How did that show up?"_ Fritz stammered. _"That's not supposed to happen… J-just press 'No', 20 is the maximum a robot's AI can go to, not minimum like we want."_

Mike clicked the "No" option promptly, but just as he did, the "No" changed to a "Yes." His eyes widened slightly.

"Uh… Fritz… I clicked 'Yes'," he muttered.

 _"_ _You did WHAT?!"_

"It wasn't me! The 'no' turned into a 'yes' just as I clicked it!" Mike defended himself, disconnecting the computer. He didn't know what else he could do to stop the program – usually if things didn't go as he wanted, he'd just turn the computer off…

 **"** **It's them"** said Golden Freddy. **"They won't let you get away that easily"**

"Who's 'they'?" Mike demanded. "Who's controlling the robots? You know, right?"

 **"** **My friends…"** the bear replied sadly. **"You have to save them"**

The bear vanished, leaving Mike alone with a programming computer in his hands and a robotic fox that was one minute away from activating with his AI turned up to maximum. Why was it, that whenever something could go wrong with him, it _always did_?!

"I'd like to save _me_ first," Mike grunted, standing up hastily and leaving the computer at Pirate Cove. "Fritz, did any of the robots move yet?"

 _"_ _N-no, they're still – it's not midnight yet, right?"_

Right on cue, the clock announced the beginning of their shift. Mike looked at the show stage slowly, to see the lights in the animatronics' flicker. Their eyes illuminated, and immediately darted on his direction.

"Shit," was all he could say.

He bolted – almost flew – down the dining hall to head towards his office, but stopped once he saw Foxy emerging from Pirate Cove. The fox looked back at him and raised its hook.

Clearly he was not getting away from there. He ran on the other direction, towards the east hall, where he knew Chica usually went. He could hear Foxy running, but it didn't sound like he was following him.

"Fritz , Foxy's going your way!" he screamed at the radio.

 _"_ _I see him, I see him,"_ Fritz ranted, and the sound of a door being closed was heard in the distance. _"Damn, he's fast…"_

"Fritz, I just want you to know," Mike growled, as he reached the bathrooms. "That if I die, the robots will be the _least_ of your problems."

 _"_ _Noted,"_ his partner said dully. _"Just get back here, Chica's heading your way."_

Mike looked back him, just in time to see the chicken emerge at the entrance of the hall, leering in his direction. He also spotted a room that he never noticed was there.

There was an entrance to another division, all boarded up with planks of wood.

"Fritz?"

 _"_ _Yeah."_

"What's that room on the east hall for?" he asked, hurrying his steps as he kept watch over the eerie female robot.

 _"_ _Huh, you mean the bathrooms?"_ Fritz asked, confused, as the sound of a door of the office being open was heard.

"No, not those! A room that's all boarded up… I don't remember seeing it in the cameras…"

 _"_ _Oh that's, uh, that's a backroom that was used to just… put things we didn't use and stuff,"_ Fritz explained. _"And a safe room, in case something went wrong…"_

"Like robots trying to kill you because someone thought it was a good idea to crank up their AI?" Mike accused.

 _"_ _Yeah, yeah, things went bad, but I'm not the one who clicked 'yes' to program their AI to maximum,"_ Fritz retorted.

Mike huffed. "That wasn't me either! Ugh, whatever – we'll talk when I get to the office!"

 _"_ _Okay,_ dad _."_

A couple of more dashes and he made it to the office, panting, but safe. He looked over his shoulder again, seeing Chica getting dangerously close to where he was, and got ready to enter the office. But the door was closed.

"What the – Fritz, open the door!"

The door went up, revealing a stressed-out Fritz feverishly switching through camera views on the tablet. Mike stomped angrily into the office, staring at his partner unimpressed.

"What the _hell_ are you doing?"

"Losing my shit, how about you?" Fritz said sarcastically, reaching to his left to close the door on Bonnie. "I thought I had things under control, but then I start seeing things…"

"What things, what did you see?" Mike questioned quickly, taking his seat next to Fritz and taking the tablet from his hands without asking.

Fritz ran fingers through his hair, trying to calm himself down. "The drawings on the walls changed… and then I see – you're not gonna believe this – Golden Freddy, in a poster, and that's impossible…!"

"It's not impossible, she's here to help," Mike informed, checking the show stage to find Freddy was gone. "Great, now they're all out…"

"Here to help?" Fritz repeated, incredulous.

 **"** **It's me"**

The ghostly bear suddenly appeared on the office, sitting on the desk and looking at both guards. Mike glanced at Fritz, wondering how he'd react.

At first, the new guard simply blinked, possibly confused as to where that voice had come from. Then, he slowly turned his head on the direction of the desk, and saw Golden Freddy looking back at him. They stared at each other for a few seconds, before Fritz screamed and fell off the chair.

The bear's hands moved slightly, as if he wanted to stop the guard from falling. **"I greeted this time!"**

Mike laughed. "Yeah you did – didn't help much, though."

Fritz stood back up quickly, staying as far away from the bear as the office's walls so permitted. "What is that doing here?!"

"First of all, it's not a 'that'," Mike sighed. "Second, Freddy's at the door."

Fritz turned around quickly and closed the right door.

"This is the friend Mira talked about," Mike explained. "Thanks to her I'm still alive."

"Golden Freddy is a 'he'," Fritz stated flatly, regaining his relaxed composure slowly. "He's destroyed, and he certainly didn't help _me_ back when I was a night guard."

Mike looked at Golden Freddy, frowning. "What does he mean with that?"

The bear looked at Fritz apologetically. **"I'm sorry – he made me do it, I didn't want to.** **I want to help"**

"Who's he?" Mike asked quickly.

Golden Freddy looked at him. **"The Puppet"**

"What, that thing's here too?" Fritz hissed.

Mike took a second to verify the animatronics' positions before hushing Fritz with a gesture of his hand. "Is that the one controlling the robots?" he asked to the bear.

 **"** **In a way,"** the bear admitted. **"But he's not the only one. There are four more. My friends"**

Mike looked at the tablet, thoughts buzzing in his mind. He remembered that time when he saw Rika in the "haunted" TV – there were four children with her, celebrating her birthday. Four children, four animatronics…

"I'm sorry, but I feel very left out here," Fritz said bitterly. "Why are you acting like having a robot that's supposedly destroyed talking to you like you're long-time buddies is normal?"

The guard looked at Fritz. Well, now it was Fritz who felt like his answers weren't being answered. But Mike understood something now.

It was the kids. Whatever happened to those four kids – plus Rika – made them haunt the animatronics and attack night guards. Maybe they had been killed by that guard he saw, the Purple Man, and since they didn't know how he looks like, they just attack anyone who sports the same uniform as him. It wasn't fair, but they were just kids…

He just didn't know what that Puppet had to do with it. He had a pretty good idea of who Golden Freddy – well, Rika – was referring to. He remembered a tall, slender monochromatic robot appearing to him twice already. Fittingly, that seemed to be the one "pulling the strings". But how…?

Mike turned to Fritz, who looked slightly annoyed.

"Well?" The new guard crossed his arms, still avoiding looking at Golden Freddy.

It was time to tell him everything he had gone through on his week as a night guard, and also about the revelations he had in the hospital. Together, they were going to figure it out.

"Alright, Fritz, our investigation starts a little sooner than expected," Mike said, while he closed the right door by clicking the button with his foot. Foxy started knocking on it seconds after.

"Take a seat, this is gonna take a while to explain."

* * *

 **[A/N - Another arc finished! 8D Well, this one was more to include clues as to what is going on, not much action, but bear with me... Hehe,** _ **bear**_ **... Ahem, anyway!**

 **Next arc will be a flashback arc, and one that will explore none other but the most discussed year ever in the story of FNAF - 1987. That will be the name of the arc, actually - "A Golden Opportunity - 1987". There will also be a flashback arc telling the story of Fredbear/Golden Freddy and Ralfbunny/Spring Bonnie/Springtrap, called "A Golden Opportunity - The Originals".**

 **As for the sequel, it will be called "A Golden Opportunity - The Forgotten", finally revealing what exactly Mike has to remember and also some other reveals about our lovely Rika.**

 **More will be announced soon! I hope you like my stories, and if you do, keep reading! Thank you for all the faves, follows and reviews. Love you all ~]**


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